


Gods and Musketeers

by DebbieF



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Other, Rated Teen and Up because some chapters maybe more violent or disturbing than others.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 46,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6179545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebbieF/pseuds/DebbieF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SwordAndSecrets had earlier mentioned this to me about trying my hand at doing a different story involving Aerturnus but I couldn't really find any research material on it so went with another suggestion she had using the Greek gods. So that's what this story will pertain too along with a bunch of research that went into this.</p>
<p>++++</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

This will be taking place in season two, d'Artagnan will be doing things in this similar to Michael York's character in The Three Musketeers and The Four Musketeers. So I will be using Dumas' novel for certain details and changing things around a bit. Like d'Artagnan will be the go-between to Queen Anne in passing along messages to the Duke of Buckingham for her and vice-versa.

I will finally be putting Constance back into the picture but as d'Artagnan's friend only. She will be happily married to a younger Bonacieux who actually likes d'Artagnan.

My Musketeers, along with Treville, Richelieu, Milady and Rochefort, will be descendants of the Greek gods. But in this story they are mortal with powers and abilities. Since they are human they can be wounded or killed and suffer from sicknesses. Their Majestys will be mortal as everyone else will be unless Richelieu, Milady or Rochefort summon up a creature, etc.

I have picked out certain gods and goddesses to match my main characters personalities. And any weapons that the gods or goddesses favored may be also used by my Musketeers, along with their symbols and sacred animals.

**d'Artagnan:** descended from the goddess Demeter. She was the sister of Zeus, daughter of Cronus and Rhea. Goddess of grain, agriculture, harvest, growth and nourishment. Also had power over nature and the seasons. Also has power over the life cycle of plants symbolizing the passage of the human soul through life and into the afterlife. Demeter's weapon was called the golden blade and it was a scythe used for war or harvesting. Her symbols are the cornucopia, wheat-ears, winged serpent and lotus staff. _(Since our d'Artagnan was a farmer's son I thought she was appropriate.)_

**Athos:** descended from the goddess Athena. She was the daughter of Zeus. Goddess of war, wisdom and art. Skilled in warfare, battle strategy, peace and handicrafts _(though we know that Athos isn't much on weaving and spinning as she was)._ Her symbol is the olive tree which can also be found in certain regions of France. Her sacred animal is the owl. Athena had magical weapons, one was a shield called an aegis that depicted Medusa's head, showing the shield's great protective power. She preferred to use wisdom to settle predicaments to going to battle but if Athena had to was a fierce warrior.

**Porthos:** descended from the god Dionysus. He was the son of Zeus. God of wine, parties, festivals, vegetation, theater, madness, chaos, drunkeness, drugs and ecstasy _(but our Porthos, to my knowledge, didn't indulge in drugs nor was interested in vegetation or theater but the other attributes seemed fitting to his character)._ Sacred animals were dolphins, donkeys, serpents, and exotic beasts such as lions and tigers. Dionysus' symbols were the grape vine, ivy and a wand or staff of giant fennel. His staff/wand could turn a rock into water and then the water into wine.

**Aramis:** descended from the goddess Aphrodite _(or you would know her by the Roman name - Venus)_. She is supposed to be the daughter of Zeus and Dione _(according to Homer's works.)_ Goddess of beauty, love, desire and pleasure who had many, many lovers. Her symbols are roses and other flowers, scallops _(including seafood)_ , myrtle _(which is a flowering plant and can be used for medicinal purposes for things such as sinus infections)_. Sacred animals were doves and sparrows. Main ability was to inspire love in others.

**Captain Treville:** descended from the Titaness Metis. She was the mother of Athena and first great spouse of Zeus and born of Oceanus and his sister Tethys. Metis was known for good counsel, advice, planning, prudence, cunning, craftiness and wisdom _(all good attributes for a captain of the Musketeers to have)._

**Cardinal Richelieu:** descended from the god Hades, prince of darkness, god of the underworld. He was the brother of Zeus and Poseidon. Despite what his name depicts, Hades was not the devil. In fact he was a private god, somber and grim, enjoyed his solitude and never actually associated with evil _(Most of these attributes seemed to fit Richelieu's character to me and that's why I picked Hades. But the part about Hades not associating himself with evil most definitely is opposite to the cardinal's character, LOL!)._ He allowed no pity nor any type of emotion to interfere with his work _(Now that is the Richelieu we all know and love to hate)._ Hades had the power of invisibility from a helmet known as the helm of darkness. Symbols were a drinking horn made of a bovid which was a cloven-hoofed like beast such as a bison, buffalo, etc.. Sacred animal was a screech owl. Also a beast dwelled in the underworld with Hades and was called Cerberus, known as a hellhound. It was a 3 headed dog with a serpent for a tail and snakes protruding from various body parts.

**Milady:** descended from Artemis, goddess of the hunt. Known for roaming the mountainsides with a band of nymphs hunting animals and men. Her symbol is the moon. All wild animals were within her domain and she's not associated with anyone in particular. Her weapons of choice were bow and arrow. It was said her arrows could cause sudden death without pain. If one got on her bad side Artemis could be vindictive and vengeful _(Sounds like another someone we all know and love to hate, which is one of the reasons I picked Artemis for Milady. That and that she hunted men. So in her character)._ Also Artemis could bring on terrible diseases and could also heal mortals if she wished. Also was a protector of children, the weak and wild animals _(Which is so not in Milady's character but the other attributes outweigh these ones for me.)_

**Rochefort:** descended from the Titan Perses who was the son of the Titan siblings, Crius and Eurybia. He was described as the Titan god of destruction. His names means Volcanic Destruction.

++++

A little more history and some insight as to some other powers/abilities you may see in my story.

In Greece they believed heroes and heroines were somewhere between gods and humans. Not as powerful as the gods themselves but stronger in many ways. They were sometimes sons or daughters of the gods which contributed to the idea they were halfway between gods and humans. In my story, of course, our Musketeer boys are the heroes along with some of their friends.

Gods lived in Mount Olympus in the Olympus range of mountains in northern Greece and it is the tallest mountain in Greece. The gods were powerful and had supernatural powers such as turning humans into animals. They could give humans special powers or tools to use. This was known as divine intervention. Zeus was the king of gods and goddesses. He was the god of weather and his symbol was the thunderbolt.

Many of the gods and goddesses had special powers specific to their realms and domains but there were also many powers of the Greek gods that were common to all of them such as some of the following:

Transformation or shapeshifting into objects or animals; enhanced intelligence; ability and powers to move from one place to another in an instant - our equivalent would be teleportation; manipulation of animals to obey their commands; manipulation of the weather; invisibility; creation of fantastic beings including monsters and in controlling them; creation of weapons with supernatural powers; their blood was a bright unearthly fluid called Ichor that had the power of producing new life; exercised great powers over humans and could transform mortals into animals, rocks or trees either for protection or revenge. They expected to be worshiped and as their due expected humans and animals to be sacrificed in their honor. The gods also interfered with lives of humans and would punish them for perceived slights.

++++

An interesting tidbit before I go.  
I already knew of this because I always loved mythology of any kind and had read many types of literature pertaining to the gods or goddesses, Greek or Roman. But have you ever wondered what it meant when you said your _Muse_ went on vacation, etc.? Well _Muses_ were daughters of Zeus _(ruler of the gods)_. They were goddesses of music, poetry, literature and art. They provided inspiration and enlightenment to artists. So we can blame them next time we all say our muse is all dried up. LOL!

++++

First chapter will probably be up sometime this week (I hope).


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had mentioned in my introduction that I would be referencing certain details from Dumas' original novel of The Three Musketeers.  
> So here's a pop quiz for all of you to see if you’re paying attention. LOL!  
> Do you know what those details were that I mentioned in this chapter and what they pertained too?  
> I know... I'm bad. LOL!
> 
> ++++

_Royal Gardens_

The Musketeers were on parade as Their Majestys were currently holding a lawn fete.

“D’Artagnan is late,” Athos drawled. “Treville’s going to ream him over the coals for this.” There was an undertone of worry for their young Gascon in his voice and Athos knew his brothers would hear it but he didn't care. That boy could get into trouble just by sneezing. But it was quite unusual for the lad to be late like this, as d’Artagnan was the first one of them up in the morning who rousted the rest of them from their beds. Tis what came from working on a farm, getting up before the sun even rose over the horizon. Feeling Aramis nudge him in the side, Athos turned his head and was relatively relieved to see d’Artagnan fast approaching Treville.

Surprised that Treville wasn’t giving d'Artagnan an earful, Athos noted the youngster slip something into the officer’s hand. Then d’Artagnan did something most odd. The Gascon looked over to where Queen Anne sat, with her ladies-in-waiting, and nodded to her with a smile gracing his lips. And odder still, the queen smiled and nodded back at the pup.

“What do you suppose that was all about?” Aramis noted the exchange between their young one and queen as well.

“Kid’s been headin’ ta the palace and back agin’ at the strangest hours,” Porthos remarked, getting astonished looks from his brothers.

Knowing they weren’t supposed to be talking while doing parade duty, Athos hesitated but needed to ask. “What made you say that?” Keeping his head facing straight forward, Athos tried to make it appear to Treville that he was focused on Their Majestys, when truly Athos was most concerned about the Gascon’s nocturnal activities.

Speaking from the corner of his mouth, Porthos went into further detail. “Ya know how sometimes I can’t sleep at night?” he grunted softly. “I was up couple of nights in a row and spied the whelp comin’ back from the direction of the palace,” Porthos paused for a second or two, making sure Captain Treville wasn’t looking his way and then continued. “On the followin’ night this time d’Artagnan headed ta the palace instead.”

“I believe our younger brother is up to his Gascon neck in some sort of court intrigue again,” Aramis murmured. Noting that so far d’Artagnan hadn’t strayed from the captain’s side. When their duty was over Aramis was sure Athos was going to corner the boy to find out exactly what d’Artagnan had gotten mixed up in this time.

Remembering how d’Artagnan had involved them all in retrieving those diamond tags for Queen Anne’s necklace, Aramis wondered if one thing had to do with the other. Which would explain away d’Artagnan’s behavior of late, according to Porthos. He prayed that wasn’t the case for Aramis didn’t relish being dragged into Her Majesty’s affairs once again.

Nodding at his brothers d’Artagnan joined them in line, catching them all glancing at him with most curious expressions. Inwardly he cringed, wishing he could divulge what he had been charged with. But d’Artagnan was afraid to do so at this time. Knowing what his brothers had gone through for him recently, d’Artagnan hesitated involving them in this delicate matter. One of which he was positive they wouldn’t appreciate.

“Treville have you on a special detail?” Athos glance slid toward their youngest.

“ _Special_ ,” d’Artagnan repeated quietly. "In a manner of speaking tis so."

“Dancin’ around the truth, boyo, is my area of expertise,” Porthos chuckled low but not low enough. For it was evident that Captain Treville had heard him as the officer scowled in Porthos' direction. “Ya been hangin' around me too much,” he added in a whisper, despite the fierce glare his captain sent him.

“Tis not a thing to boast about, mon frère,” Aramis teased his large friend, then quickly wiped his grin away as Captain Treville got right up into his face. “No talking, Captain,” Aramis nodded firmly. “Got it.” Their commander at times never needed to say a word. With just a look, a lift of the brow or a wave of a single digit, Treville could render one speechless. Rather like Athos in that respect.

++++

Much later, when parade was over and done with, the inseparables dispersed. The captain had given each of them other assignments for the day which took priority over Athos finding out what the young Gascon had gotten himself caught up in.

For d'Artagnan's part in helping Queen Anne, Treville had given him the rest of the day to do as he pleased.

So d’Artagnan headed home to where he lodged with Constance and her husband Jacques. Thinking that now being a fully fledged Musketeer perhaps he should find his own set of apartments as his brothers have. But Constance and Jacques persuaded d’Artagnan otherwise. The couple insisted that he was to consider this his home as well. They enjoyed d’Artagnan’s company and never minded entertaining his friends. It was Jacques who one day mentioned to d’Artagnan that being surrounded by Musketeers, and having one living under their roof, brought them a measure of comfort.

When d’Artagnan entered the house it was to find Constance muttering a string of mild oaths at several indoor, potted plants that were struggling to survive. Their once sturdy stems were now bent over like an aged person with back problems.

Turning her head at his entrance, wearing a pretty scowl, Constance waved d’Artagnan over and stabbed a finger in the air at her flowers. “I must have a black thumb, d’Artagnan,” she sighed. “No matter what I try they keep dying on me.”

Bending over her shoulder, d’Artagnan tsked tsked lightly. “You just have to know how to talk to them,” he touched a finger to one delicate stem. Waving his hand over the plants, the flowers slowly straightened up and bloomed to their full potential. “I will show you what you are doing wrong later.”

Squeezing his arm in gratitude, Constance smile lit up her attractive features. “Could you wave your magic again over my garden as well?”

Shaking his head fondly at her, d’Artagnan followed Constance outside to the back of the house. Eyes narrowing on the dry earth, he glanced at her wryly. “We’ve been having a bit of a dry spell lately and you should have been watering your garden more than you have,” d'Artagnan scolded gently.

Hands on her hips, Constance’s small chin jutted out telling d’Artagnan that he was in for a lecture. “If I had the time I would have, but with all the work I have to do around here my garden does get woefully neglected.”

“I told you I could move out…” d’Artagnan quickly snapped his mouth shut as Constance fiercely interrupted him.

“NON!” she stamped a dainty foot. “Jacques and I think upon you as a younger sibling and we would miss your companionship terribly!”

“Calm down,” d’Artagnan’s dark eyes twinkled. “You’re the one complaining about your workload these days.” A rap on the door brought a halt to their discussion as he watched Constance go to answer it. When she came back, Constance appeared slightly nervous. "Has something upset you?"

"I'm not sure," Constance spoke softly in d'Artagnan's ear. "But it might _upset_ you because there's a Red Guard outside saying that Cardinal Richelieu requests your immediate presence." Constance placed a hand on his arm. "You didn't go and do anything _stupid_ did you, d'Artagnan?"

"Who me?" d'Artagnan gave her his most innocent expression and playfully batted his eyes at her. “Go and do something _stupid_? Ha!" he laughed out loud, while brushing a piece of stray hair away from Constance's troubled face. "Do not worry so on my account. Perhaps the cardinal simply needs me for an errand."

"He has his _own_ guards for that," Constance huffed. "Keep your eyes open when entering that devil’s domain," she warned. Her stomach twisted up in knots while she observed d’Artagnan leave with the Red Guard by his side.

A few minutes past d’Artagnan’s departure, Jacques strode in carrying a bolt of material for a client he had a commission from. "Why’s that Red Guard tagging alongside d’Artagnan?”

“Rather the other way around,” Constance made a face. “He’s on his way to see His Eminence,” she could see the same concern register on Jacques's face that Constance herself was feeling. "D'Artagnan's not worried over it so I guess we shouldn't be either." Walking over to her husband Constance relieved him of the material, running her hand over its silky smoothness. "Someone's going to pay handsomely for this."

"Oui," Jacques nodded, "and so we should start on it right away." They both left for their work room.

++++

_Palais-Cardinal_

Before taking his leave, the guard stayed well back from His Emience’s pet dog who sat obediently by his master’s desk. No one could stand the vicious animal and stayed clear of it whenever possible. Quietly closing the door behind him, the Red Guard left the young Musketeer to await Cardinal Richelieu’s pleasure.

"Have you changed your mind yet, d’Artagnan?" Richelieu's eyes narrowed on the slim figure of the youth in front of him. "I held my hand out to you twice before and twice before you refused it."

"Apologies, My Lord," d'Artagnan respectfully bowed his head." But I'm confused," he noted impatience lining the cardinal's face. "I've recently been commissioned into the Musketeers for which you already are aware."

Sitting back in his chair, Richelieu studied the Gascon. Steepling his fingers together he peered over them at the lad. Hearing Cerberus growling softly, Richelieu snapped his fingers at the beast and immediately the dog quieted. "I've heard nothing but good things concerning you, child, and from time to time will continue asking if you've had a change of heart."

"I am honored that you think me worthy enough of becoming one of your soldiers but I will never change my mind in that regard," d'Artagnan stated firmly. Hoping that Richelieu would stop pestering him over it.

"Pity," Richelieu leaned down to rub Cerberus's head. "A word of warning for you, young man," his dark eyes pierced those of the boy's, "do not get yourself tangled up in matters of politics for things would not end happily for you."

Was the cardinal hinting that he knew what d'Artagnan had been doing for the queen? He certainly prayed not. Could be Richelieu was just playing a guessing game with him to see if d'Artagnan would accidentally slip up and say something that could incriminate himself. Whenever the assigned rendezvous had been given to him d'Artagnan had been quite discreet, making sure he hadn't been followed. "A warning, Cardinal?"

Smiling, Richelieu shook his head. "Call it friendly advice."

Without warning Cerbersus growled low in his throat and instantly changed into his true form ... that of a three headed dog. He snapped at d'Artagnan, swinging his serpent's tail back and forth, while the snakes on his body undulated as if they were dancing to a tune only they could hear.

Stepping back, d'Artagnan didn't dare take his eyes off the hideous creature. His hand instantly went to the hilt of his sword, even knowing that his weapon would be ineffective against Cerbersus' true form.

"Cerbersus!" Richelieu snapped his fingers at the beast and watched it transform back. "I am sorry for that, d'Artagnan."

"Apparently Cerbersus has taken a dislike to my uniform," d'Artagnan weakly quipped, earning a slight smirk from the cardinal. "But as to what you just asked me, Your Eminence, politics are above my understanding at the best of times," a small smile touched his lips. "I am a simple soldier and follow only orders of my captain and king."

"And myself I would hope," Richelieu added and waved his hand. "That will be all for now, d'Artagnan."

Before being dismissed, d'Artagnan stabbed Cerbersus with a cautious look while bowing to the cardinal and backing his way out to the door, never once taking his eyes away from the damn creature.

++++

_The Bonacieux's Home_

"Well?" was the first word out of Constance's mouth when d'Artagnan entered the house.

"What did Cardinal Richelieu want with you?" Jacques asked, just as curious to know as his wife.

"Ummmm," d'Artagnan's eyes widened as the couple ganged up on him, "you could say it was a fishing expedition."

Scrunching up her face, Constance stared from d'Artagnan to her husband and back again. " _Fishing_... the cardinal?" Hearing Jacques quiet laughter beside her, Constance slapped at his arm. "Stop that!"

"What d'Artagnan meant, ma chere," Jacques gazed with love in his eyes at Constance' perplexed face, "was that His Eminence was trying to get d’Artagnan to impart some information.”

"Then why didn't you say just that?" Constance brushed past d'Artagnan with irritation clear in her voice and headed straight for the kitchen while muttering under her breath.

Waiting until he was certain Constance was out of range, Jacques raised an eyebrow and stared at d'Artagnan. "Are you in trouble... _again_?"

Pulling out a chair, d'Artagnan sat down. "Nothing that you two need worry upon.”

"Constance has told me Queen Anne's mood has changed considerably of late," Jacques said and joined d'Artagnan at the table. "Being the queen's seamstress as you know, Constance is privy to certain information not given to others."

"You both understood what happened last time," d'Artagnan huffed. "This... this is entirely different."

"You mean it doesn't involve missing tags from a particular necklace King Louis gifted his wife with?" Jacques snorted. "I assume you can't say anything," he held up a warning finger. "All I can impart is to say watch your step carefully."

Standing back up, d'Artagnan rolled his eyes. "You sound very much like Athos now."

"A good man to emulate," Jacques nodded. Seeing d'Artagnan edge toward the door, Jacques wanted to thank the boy before he left. "Constance told me what you did for her plants and our garden," he chuckled. "Growing things wasn't her gift and you have my thanks for saving them."

"Constance has a gift all her own, Jacques," d'Artagnan's eyes lit up with amusement. "The _gift_ of keeping us all in line."

Rubbing the side of his face, Jacque pursed his lips. "Oui," he nodded. "I've felt that _line_ a time or two myself."

"So has Aramis," d'Artagnan laughed on his way out the door.

++++

_Athos' apartments_

Letting himself in, d'Artagnan made himself comfortable in his mentor's home. They all had keys to each others places and trusted one another with them. Except for d'Artagnan because he couldn't very well hand out a key to the Bonacieux's home.

Glancing over at the books lining the shelves off in the corner, d'Artagnan noted the works of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey. Two of Athos' favorite epic poems, especially since they both concerned the Trojan War. He remembered an old argument they had had over the author at one time. Athos believed Homer was the greatest poet of the ancient world and most certainly one of the most influential artists of the literary world. Whereas d'Artagnan thought Homer's stories were a bit too dry for him.

Looking at the rest of Athos’ extensive book collection, d’Artagnan lost track of time and missed hearing Athos enter the apartment. It wasn't until the touch of a hand on top of his shoulder that d'Artagnan realized he wasn't alone. Startled he nearly reached for his main gauche.

"Whoa there, d'Artagnan!" Athos' blue eyes crinkled up in the corners as his lips twitched in amusement. "Wool gathering again?"

"Guess so," d'Artagnan ducked his head shyly, “even though there are no sheep in attendance.”

Removing his hat and weapon's belt, Athos placed them on the table. Going over to his liquor cabinet, Athos retrieved two glasses and a bottle of wine. Bringing it back over, he placed the bottle on the table and handed d'Artagnan one of the glasses proceeding to fill it with the red liquid. Doing the same with his own, Athos sipped at it all the while pensively observing d'Artagan. "Word has it that you had an audience with Richelieu."

"Gossip spreads faster around the garrison than the gossip in the women's laundry room," d'Artagnan snorted.

"I know Aramis goes there from time to time," Athos finished his drink. "But I didn't realize you do."

"Athos, really," d'Artagnan glared at him. "We all know very well why Aramis goes _there_ ," he said, "and tis not to get his laundry done."

"All right," Athos laughed, "tis just so easy to rile you so, mon ami." Then his face turned serious. "Are you in trouble?"

Rolling his eyes dramatically, d'Artagnan then turned his best wounded puppy expression on the older man. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"By _everyone_ I suppose you meant Constance and Jacques?" Athos watched the lad nod. "Because after what took place not too long ago," he stabbed the boy with a knowing look, "we all have realized that _trouble_ sticks to you like glue."

"Just for that," d'Artagnan's long legs took him quickly to the door, "I'm leaving."

Sighing, Athos reached out to grasp the youngster's arm just as d'Artagnan stuck one foot out the door. Dragging him back inside, Athos shoved the lad into a chair. "Your Gascon temper needs cooling off."

"I'm tired of all of you thinking the worst of me," d'Artagnan griped.

"If you are not in trouble," Athos folded his arms, "then pray tell what did His Eminence want from you?"

Drumming his fingers impatiently on top of the table, d'Artagnan stiffly replied. "First to see if I changed my mind on staying a Musketeer," he smirked seeing that was the last thing Athos expected as his friend dropped down into his own chair. "The other was more or less Richelieu trying to pry some information out of me."

Giving the lad a pointed stare, Athos cocked his head to the side. "And did he?"

"Non," d'Artagnan replied with a shake of his head. "But Cerberus must have taken exception to what I did not say and turned nasty on me."

"I for one cannot stand that beast," Athos spat.

"Nor I," d'Artagnan agreed. "I'd love to end its days."

"The cardinal's wrath wouldn't be a pretty thing if you did," Athos arched an eyebrow high.

"I could always borrow Richelieu's helm of darkness to do the deed," d'Artagan rather liked that idea and tabled it for later.

"Invisibility can only take you so far," Athos’ held back a small smile at the child’s pout. "Still, tis worthy of merit actually." Ruffling the youngster's hair, Athos stood up again. "Let us go and see if Porthos and Aramis have managed to stir up a hornet's nest elsewhere."

"Ah!" d'Artagnan slammed Athos with an affronted look. "So you do agree there are others out there that attract just as much trouble, mmmmm?" he hummed.

With mirth dancing in his eyes, Athos pushed d'Artagnan out the door. "But none so much as you, mon frere."


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See note at bottom.
> 
> ++++

_Same day, after Athos and d'Artagnan departed the apartment_

Her carriage taking Milady through the streets of Paris, had come to a halt in front of a dilapidated looking hotel where they picked up a passenger. "Bonjour, mon amour."

"Couldn't we have met at the palace?" Rochefort didn't bother with greeting his paramour as he wasn't in the best of moods.

"You know how Richelieu feels about his agents becoming lovers," Milady looked at him in exasperation for this wasn't the first time they had discussed their situation.

"All I know is that it was deuce inconvenient for me," Rochefort complained, not caring what she thought.

"Perhaps you need to change your eyepatch to something more colorful," her eyes danced. "It may improve your disposition."

His _disposition_ be damned! Rochefort glared back at her with his one good eye, about to give her an earful when he noted that Milady's attention had suddenly veered away from him. She now appeared to be focused on whatever was outside the carriage window, which made Rochefort all the more irritated with her. Wanting to see if Milady had tuned him out completely, Rochefort tested her. "Last night I slept with the queen."

"That's nice," Milady hummed as she continued to stare out the window, engrossed in her observations and quite oblivious to the sounds of annoyance Rochefort was making.

"What victim do you have in your sights this time?" Rochefort had glanced outside but had seen no one of any great import as far as he could tell.

"Tis that Gascon who foiled our plot over the diamond tags," Milady watched d'Artagnan walking idly down the street with another Musketeer. "Richelieu told me the foolish boy has been refusing the cardinal's most generous offers to enter into his service."

"I can't imagine why," he remarked sardonically. Picking a piece of lint off from his long coat, Rochefort was already bored with the topic.

"Do please play nice," Milady fanned herself, still keeping track of the Gascon's movements. "What I couldn't do with a man like that," she murmured softly under her breath.

"You do realize that I'm sitting right here?" Rochefort snapped. He knew they were not exclusive to one another and probably never would be. But he did not like knowing about Milady's potential conquests within his hearing.

"Don't be such a spoil sport," Milady pouted prettily, tapping her disgruntled lover's arm with the tip of her fan. "Mmmmm," she licked her lips. "I wonder just how good d'Artagnan actually is?"

"As a lover or as a descendant of Demeter?" Rochefort drolly asked, already guessing at what her answer would be.

"Both," she grinned at Rochefort's look of mock outrage. "Mon cher, you asked for that and you know it," Milady laughed delightfully.

"Oh put me out of my misery now," Rochefort said with feeling. "Go hunt down your young prey and do Artemis proud with your hunting prowess."

"Do I detect a note of jealousy in your voice," Milady peered at him from underneath her long eyelashes.

"I... jealous?" he scoffed. "I didn't think I had to remind you of my ancestry."

Sorry she had teased him, Milady pulled a face. "Non, you don't." Waving a slim hand in the air she added, " _God of destruction_... ooh la la!" she giggled.

Ignoring her levity, Rochefort took a jab at her. "About the only thing you have in common with your deity is hunting and making people sick," he gave a most ungentlemanly snort.

Understanding what Rochefort was getting at, Milady could make fun of herself with no trouble at all. "I think the gods were laughing at how I turned out," she snickered. "Not exactly following in Artemis' virginal footsteps, eh?"

"Not even close," Rochefort chuckled deeply.

"I believe a test is in order for our young Gascon," Milady observed that the youth and the other Musketeer had stopped to converse with a few citizens. This would be the perfect opportunity to see d'Artagnan in action. Touching a fingertip to the choker Milady always wore, she felt its warmth spread as the red ruby began to softly glow.

++++

While listening to several complaints of petty thievery concerning children from the Cour des Miracles, Athos and d'Artagnan were taken completely off guard when a three headed giant shimmered and came to being in front of them.

Shoving the citizens out of the way, d'Artagnan's golden blade shimmered into his right hand. "I wasn't expecting Cacus on our leisurely stroll!" he shouted to Athos.

"Let us make sure he doesn't set fire to any of these buildings!" Athos yelled, knowing that with one breath from Cacus that could easily be done. With how most of these buildings were erected side by side, they could have a disaster of major proportions on their hands.

"What about us, mon ami?" d'Artagnan huffed with an added eyeroll for effect. "For myself I do not relish being eaten alive nor wanting my bones used to decorate his cave!" he hollered back.

"I agree!" Athos' aegis then shimmered into his own hand as he held it up in front of his face to protect him from any fire Cacus might let loose. "I'd have you try for one of Cacus' heads but he'd still be left with two so that won't do either of us any good!" Furiously thinking upon a way to defuse the situation before innocent people got hurt, Athos glanced at the boy. "See if you can get around him, close enough to wield your scythe, d'Artagnan!"

With a tuck and roll, d'Artagnan ended up behind Cacus. His movements fast and quick while Athos distracted the monster as it breathed fire upon his mentor's shield. With a powerful swing of his golden scythe d'Artagnan landed it smack in the middle of Cacus' massive back. Dragging his weapon downward it tore the skin apart as bone and sinew were exposed. Copious amounts of blood began to pour out of the hideous wound to drip onto the ground as Cacus roared in absolute fury.

Trying to reach behind him to dislodge the weapon, Cacus realized it was useless. Weakened, it tried one more time to reign fire down upon the man in front of him but the shield just deflected it back towards himself, burning Cacus' own skin as it blistered.

Ripping his scythe from the creature, d'Artagnan was breathing hard. He hoped that between himself and Athos they had done enough damage to it.

Defeated, Cacus screamed in outrage and shimmered out of existence.

Sweat dribbling down his face, Athos swiped it away angling a wry look toward the boy. "What god do you think we pissed off to earn this type of retaliation?"

"I didn't do anything," d'Artagnan replied innocently, holding out his hands, “honest.”

"I doubt that," Athos chuckled and ruffled the pup's long hair.

Willing his weapon away, d'Artagnan's scythe disappeared as if it never was as Athos did the same with his aegis. "All in a day's work, mon frere," he clapped the older man on the shoulder while they continued on their way. After all dealing with monsters was part and parcel of the Musketeer package they all had signed on for.

++++

"Satisfied?" Rochefort watched the play of emotions cross his lover's face. At this moment he wasn't sure what Milady's thoughts were.

"Extremely so," Milady murmured quietly. "And a touch worried," she reluctantly admitted.

"I have known you to be many things," Rochefore arched a brow, "but _worried_ was never one of them."

"All of us reach that point sometime in their life," she stared after the boy until he disappeared out of view. "I suppose this is mine."

++++

_Garrison courtyard_

“Eh,” Porthos nudged Aramis in the back, “look what the wind blew in.”

Turning around, Aramis saw d’Artagnan and Athos entering past the gates of the garrison. The two men appeared to be having a discussion of some type. “Find some trouble while out and about, d’Artagnan?”

“Kid’s got the rest of the day off and shouldn’t be findin’ any ta get inta,” Porthos laughed.

“That does it!” d’Artagnan growled as he charged Aramis. He didn't get very far though because Athos quickly grabbed at his doublet with both hands and held d'Artagnan back. His mentor probably thought he was preventing d'Artagnan from doing something foolish. However the word _stupid_ came to mind as d'Artagnan thought upon what Constance would say if she heard of his behavior.

“What’s got inta ya, whelp?” Wearing a frown, Porthos went to stand closer to the lad, seeing how upset d'Artagnan truly was.

“I’m sick and tired of being tarred and feather by the same brush as you three!” d’Artagnan grumbled, shrugging off Athos' hold.

“Us three?” Aramis’ raised both brows and shared confused looks with his brothers.

"Mon Dieu!" d'Artagnan threw both hands in the air. "Don't play the innocents with me now... tis too late for that!"

Understanding dawned and Aramis refrained from teasing their young Gascon further. Even though their pup could rise to the occasion so dramatically.

Trying to steer the conversation away from the hot headed boy, Athos drawled, “Does Cacus constitute as _trouble_ to you, Aramis?”

“Merde!” Aramis swore. “Truly,” he shook his head, “you two have the worse luck.”

“Perhaps Cacus picked on the wrong pair of Musketeers,” Athos mused, hearing snickering come from their youngest now that he had calmed down somewhat.

"Got 'em good did ya?" Porthos caught the look Athos threw the whelp and wondered what was behind it.

"D'Artagnan was able to deal the giant a terrible blow with his scythe," Athos explained, pride quite evident in the look he sent the lad.

"Porthos and I just finished training some recruits," Aramis placed his arm around d'Artagnan's shoulders. "How about I buy the first round of drinks over at The Wren?"

Knowing this was a peace offering, a slow smile spread across d'Artagnan's face. Shyly glancing at Aramis through hair that had fallen across his face, d'Artagnan felt a gentle squeeze to the back of his neck from his older brother and knew all had been forgiven.

"You're on, mon ami," Athos smiled. "Just let me apprise Treville on what happened and then we may depart.

++++

_Royal Palace_

Finishing her letter, Queen Anne sealed it but not with the royal crest for that would give it away to any who laid eyes upon it. "Rachelle," she called out to her trusted maid, handing the missive to the young woman. "Make sure d'Artagnan receives this."

++++

_The Wren_

The Musketeers were well into their third round of drinks when an older gentleman came into the tavern looking for d'Artagnan.

Raising his hand d'Artagnan motioned him over, recognizing the man as the usual courier that Queen Anne used. Accepting the missive, d'Artagnan quickly scanned the letter's contents. Glancing up into the courier's face, d'Artagnan said, "I will be there shortly." Seeing the older man acknowledge him with a dip of his head, d'Artagnan waited until the courier left. Pushing back his chair, he stood up. "My apologies for cutting this short but I have important business to attend."

"Their Majesty's business?" Athos didn't note any change of expression on the pup but didn't want to let this opportunity slide by without saying something.

"Perhaps tis the queen's eh, whelp?"

Seeing the Gascon blush, Athos knew Porthos' words hit their mark. "You had no problem bringing us into it before." Relaxing back into his chair Athos regarded d'Artagnan with a keen eye, watching the lad squirm under his questioning gaze. "What makes it different this time?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, d'Artagnan walked clear around their table trying to think on how to answer that simple question. If only he had a _simple_ answer. Finally coming to a decision, d'Artagnan stopped behind Athos' chair and bent down to whisper one word in his mentor's ear. " _Buckingham_."

++++

_Note:_

Cacus is a fire breathing monster. A 3 headed giant who lives on human flesh. He liked to decorate his caves with bones and skulls of his victims.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See notes at bottom.
> 
> ++++

_Same day, early evening – The Wren_

“Merde!” Athos locked eyes with that of the Gascon’s before the boy left. He was about to say something further when d’Artagnan held up his hand.

“Later,” d’Artagnan nodded to all of his brothers. “I can’t delay in my appointment.”

After their youngest left Porthos and Aramis silently pondered their drinks for a few minutes, both Musketeers deep in thought. Then in unison they looked over at their leader, wearing identical expressions of deep annoyance.

“We’re not going to like where this is going are we?” Aramis had heard Athos swear at whatever the pup had told him and he knew it could only spell trouble for all of them.

Thinking that perhaps he should wait before divulging the name that had escaped the Gascon’s lips, Athos contemplated his own unfinished glass of wine. “I think tis better for us to hear from d’artagnan on the matter.”

“Ifin’ the kid don’t up and get ‘emself killed in the meantime,” Porthos grunted and instantly felt bad putting it like that when Athos turned white as a ghost.

“Sometimes your mouth is even bigger than your head,” Aramis muttered to the larger man.

“Suddenly I feel the urgent need to return to my apartments where I could quietly have a nervous breakdown.” Knowing his words only made things sound extremely dire, Athos just wanted to get out of the tavern to breathe in some fresh air. “Bonsoir, mes frères.”

Athos departure had the remaining two Musketeers left with a most unsettled feeling.

“Why didn’t we just stay at my place?” Porthos shot a sharp glance at Aramis. ““I coulda used my staff ta make us all the wine we coulda handled,” he laughed. “There at least we would 'ave had the luxury of passin' out stupid drunk on my carpet and not havta be worried none about bein’ thrown out of The Wren.”

Throwing out his arms wide,” Aramis winked. “We have to keep up sociable appearances, mon ami.” He shifted his gaze from Porthos’ doubting stare to scour the smoke-filled tavern. When Aramis dared look back at his brother, Aramis grinned sheepishly. “Besides, I rather had ulterior motives in suggesting we come here tonight.”

Snorting into his glass of wine,” Porthos raised it in the air to his friend’s health. “Now that’s more like the Aramis I know and love.” Shaking his head ruefully, Porthos continued watching his brother strain his eyesight. “So which one is it tanight?”

“The lovely Louise is supposed to be on tonight's shift,” he sighed. “I’ve been working my powers of persuasion on her for the last two evenings.”

“Two nights?” Porthos was surprised. “Losing your touch, mon frere?”

“Each time I was beginning to win her over something came up and I had to leave at the last minute, "but not this time if Aramis had any say in it. Standing up, he tipped his hat to Porthos and went in search of Louise, imagining a most pleasurable night of bed sport.

++++

_Royal Palace_

Whenever the queen summoned him in the evenings like this, d’Artagnan always took another route to the palace. Using the underground set of tunnels underneath the Louvre, he would rouse no suspicion. It was a system they had worked out together and thus far had proved invaluable.

Lighting his way with a single torch, d’Artagnan worked the twists and turns of the maze until he came to what appeared a deadend. Staring at the solid wall in front of him d'Artagnan placed his hand upon the center brick and observed the wall slowly creak open, thus enabling him to gain entry to a winding staircase. When d'Artagnan reached the top, he easily slipped out another door leading to a servant's entrance attached to the queen's chambers. Fortunately for him Their Majestys didn't share a bedroom which made such clandestine meetings easier. Raising his hand to the door he made his presence known.

++++

_Queen Anne's chambers_

Out of the quiet came the sounds of knocking. At first it was three in a row, Queen Anne then started toward the door but stopped when the sounds ceased. She waited and was rewarded with two more and then a pause followed by four more knocks. Breathing easier, she knew d'Artagnan had received her message. Devising the series of raps was her idea so that Queen Anne knew when it was her young gallant coming to her aid.

Opening the door d'Artagnan entered and immediately went down on one knee, bending his head low. "My Lady."

Tipping his chin up toward her, Queen Anne smiled down into her brave Musketeer. "You and I need not stand on ceremony here, d'Artagnan. Do please get up."

When he did as she graciously commanded, d'Artagnan patiently waited Her Majesty's orders.

"Buckingham wants to meet," her words were blunt and to the point. Queen Anne noted the youngster's dark eyes widen slightly, which was the only sign of surprise she registered on the Gascon's face.

"The duke's here... in France?" his voice nearly cracked.

"Oui," Queen Anne nodded. "It was in his last letter you delivered to me," she walked across the room. "I would have dissuaded him otherwise if I could have but George said his love for me outweighed my womanly fears."

"If I may be so bold," d'Artagnan waited for her to grant him leave to say his piece, "did the duke have any concern for your _queenly_ fears?"

Always enjoying their verbal sparring when together, Queen Anne deliberately didn't answer the boy's question. "George and I are to meet in Amiens in a little over three days from tomorrow."

Floored by her announcement, he chewed on his lip holding back from venting what he truly thought about this plan. What d'Artagnan said instead was, "At least tis a short journey. Who is to take you?"

Crossing the room again, Queen Anne tapped d'Artagnan on the chest with a slim finger. "You are, my champion."

Stunned, d'Artagnan looked at her as if the queen had turned into Medusa. "Care to explain away our absence to His Majesty?"

"Oh pooh!" Queen Anne pouted. "Louis will hardly know I'm gone," her eyes were filled with determination and something else that flickered there before d'Artagnan could catch it. The lad didn't need to know all the woes behind her marriage. "But just so you don't worry yourself to death over it I have already considered our cover story." She could clearly see the expression of disbelief crossing the Gascon's features.

"Everyone knows my love for pretty gowns," she went to her wardrobe and opened the sliding door. "Extravagant I know but Louis does so like to see me dress well."

There were so many gowns in her massive closet that d'Artagnan's mind boggled. The queen could easily furnish half the women in Paris with her fashions.

"I will simply tell Louis there is a most amazing couture gown designer in Amiens that I must see for myself." She hoped d'Artagnan wasn't overcome with the vapors for suddenly he was bereft of words. "I will be bringing Constance along as well to add more weight to my story." Oh that tidbit didn't go over too well either with the young man when Queen Anne noticed how pale he had turned.

To d'Artagnan's way of thinking, adding Constance to the mix only spelled more problems for him. Oh he knew she could well take care of herself, having taught her himself in the use of blade and musket work. But now d'Artagnan would have his attention divided more than he'd like.

"Come, d'Artagnan," Queen Anne thought the boy looked like he had swallowed a sour lemon. "It won't be as bad as you think," she smiled into her champion's troubled eyes. "This way Louis will believe me thinking that my seamstress is coming along to pick up valuable pointers." She tried to ease d'Artagnan's concerns for Queen Anne knew he and Constance were the best of friends and the lad wouldn't see her put in danger for the world and neither would she.

"At least Captain Treville shouldn't pose much of a problem since he already knows I've been running secret errands for you," even though he hasn't the faintest idea they're with Buckingham. Rubbing his chin in thought he added, "Still he may want you to take along more than just myself as your royal guard."

"See to that task yourself, d'Artagnan, and talk it over with the captain." Queen Anne turned, took a step away from him then paused, turning back around. "I trust you will not mention tis Buckingham I am going to?"

"You know I will not be so careless," d'Artagnan gently chided.

"My captain perhaps may have already guessed but what he doesn't know won't make him lose his head," Queen Anne said this in all seriousness.

"Now I truly worry for my _own_ at your words, My Queen," d'Artagnan frowned. "But what of Constance's?"

"I would claim you were both innocent in my deception." She took the young Musketeer by the arm. "We will leave late tomorrow morn."

"Is Buckingham worth it?" If she could be blunt then so could d'Artagnan.

"If Louis can have his mistresses by the score than I should be able to at least have my George," Queen Anne sighed. "If only for a brief time."

They exchanged a few more particulars about their journey and then d'Artagnan left shortly after. Heading once more into the darkened tunnels, he hurried as much as he dared for morning would come all too soon.

++++

_Late evening - Palais-Cardinal_

"I called you here because word has reached me that Buckingham is in France," Richelieu stroked Cerberus' head.

Holding back a yawn, Milady hadn't appreciated losing her beauty sleep when receiving a missive that Richelieu needed to meet with her late this eve. "Do you know the duke's last sighting?"

"Tis what I pay you for!" Richelieu snarled. "Then when you do locate the Englishman," an odd light entered his cold eyes, "dispose of him. Perhaps then the queen will focus all her attention on Louis and give him the heir he and France so desperately need."

Tired of Richelieu's never ending rant about the childless monarchs, Milady perched on the cardinal's desk. Leaning over she reached out for the crucifix hanging around His Eminence's neck. "King Louis has his paramours," Milady released the cross, "why can't Her Majesty?"

"Anyone but _Buckingham_ ," he spat. Hearing Cerberus take exception to his tone, Richelieu snapped his fingers at the beast. He was deeply amused at how fast Milady flew off his desk upon hearing Cerberus growling.

Taking exception to the cardinal's pet, Milady grew bolder with her words. "Have you ever taken it into consideration that the problem of begetting children falls upon the king and not Queen Anne?"

"Of course I have," Richelieu may have married into the church but certainly knew about procreation and how it could oftentimes go awry. He certainly didn't need a lesson from his agent on the matter. "Trust me I have a plan in the works if this goes on for much longer."

Folding her arms, Milady's eyes narrowed. "What do I get out of this?" her fingers toyed with the choker about her neck.

"Your usual payment plus any other expenses that may arise," he waved a hand of dismissal, already putting Milady from his thoughts. After she had flounced out of his office Richelieu went back to tackling his paperwork.

++++

_Next day, very early morning_

Having hashed out the details with Captain Treville, d'Artagnan made sure a carriage had been prepared for Her Majesty. The night before d'Artagnan could only tell Constance so much but that the queen had need of her services. He knew that she was already privy to some of Her Majesty's private affairs. If Constance decided to make an educated guess as to whom this _dress designer_ truly was, well then d'Artagnan knew Constance would take the secret to her grave. But he vowed to himself that it would never come to that.

It was Jacques they both had to calm down over his wife's imminent departure. The man had given them an earful about Queen Anne and that woman's tendency for involving everyone Jacques cared for in Her Majesty's intrigues. What d'Artagnan felt even more badly about was that poor Jacques would have to fend for himself for an entire week. That man couldn't even boil water without catching the house on fire.

Focusing on the task at hand, his next stop was the garrison canteen where d'Artagnan knew the inseparables would be. For Treville would not let the queen leave without all of them on Her Majesty's detail. Not wanting to be conspicuous, d'Artagnan and the captain realized they had to keep the party down to a minimum. Drawing attention to the carriage and its occupants was the very last thing any of them needed. Which meant that d'Artagnan didn't have to be concerned on any Red Guards joining them.

++++

_Canteen_

At least they were in one place which made gathering his chicks all in one basket much easier. "Bonjour, mes amis," d'Artagnan walked over to their table.

"Join us, child," Athos patted the empty chair between himself and Porthos. "We saved you a seat."

"Merci," but I have already eaten," d'Artagnan chuckled at the face Porthos pulled.

"Probably ate better than we did," Porthos bit into a biscuit and swore. "Merde! I nearly broke a tooth. Tis rock hard," he banged it on the table top so the others could see he was telling the truth. "Serge!" he shouted, waiting for the retired Musketeer to show himself. Seeing the old man approach, Porthos threw the biscuit at him. "Ya tried eatin' your own cookin' this mornin'?"

Dodging the projectile, Serge picked it up from the floor and felt its weight in his hand. Shaking his head, Serge apologized. "I'm sorry, Porthos. I have some new kitchen help," he grimaced. "I'll whip up a new batch for you."

"He won't have time to eat it, Serge," d'Artagnan informed him.

"I won't?" Porthos exchanged curious looks with his other brothers. "My stomach tells me differently, kid."

"I have an urgent assignment from Queen Anne and by orders of Captain Treville you, mes freres, are to join us." Observing Athos bang his head on the table, d'Artagnan knew he would be in for it later with his mentor. Not to mention the groaning sounds that accompanied his announcement coming from Aramis and Porthos. In fact d'Artagnan knew he'd be in for a lecture from all three of his friends at some point in the future.

"What have you gotten us involved in this time, child," Athos' right eye began to twitch which was a sure sign of his agitation growing.

"Not I," d'Artagnan pursed his lips. "All the blame falls squarely on Her Majesty's shoulders."

"All I need to add to my indigestion is for _Cyclops_ to drop in for breakfast," Aramis rolled his eyes. "Though now that I think upon it this place is just too good for Rochefort."

"When da we leave?" Porthos scarfed down his eggs in rapid time. If he was going to risk indigestion like Aramis, Porthos would rather it happen now than later when they hit the road.

"Is two hours enough time for all of you to ready yourselves?"

"It will have to be won't it?" And here Athos thought having faced a three headed monster would be the top of his week.

++++

_Well on their way en route to Amiens_

Bad enough the inseparables were on this journey, but when they found out Queen Anne involved Constance they knew they'd have to be on top of their game. For all of them loved the seamstress like a petite soeur.

"Where did d'Artagnan go off too?" One minute d'Artagnan was riding Zad abreast of  their carriage and then the next they had both disappeared.

Dipping his head, Athos looked inside the window. "Scouting up ahead," but Athos' finger pointed upward.

Craning her head out the window, Constance grinned. For she could see what Athos had meant. Only if one knew what to look for could d'Artagnan be detected at all because the young Gascon and Zad were flying extremely high over the road they traveled.

"I'll never get used to seeing that," Queen Anne laughed as she too looked out another window to catch sight of her brave champion.

"Perks of having a horse that can turn into Pegasus," Constance giggled. "Wish I had one."

"Have you ever ridden on Pegasus?" Queen Anne would be envious if Constance admitted to doing so.

"One time only," Constance winced. "Then Jacques had such a fit worrying that I was going to fall off that I never had the courage to try again."

"Men can be such trying creatures," Queen Anne's eyes sparkled, enjoying Constance's companionship. So the rest of their time was spent in chitchat about being married to such babies.

++++

_Notes_

The Duke of Buckingham's name is George Villiers.

The meeting between Queen Anne and Buckingham at Amiens was alluded to from notes in Dumas' novel pertaining to a likely meeting having taken place between them there in the northern part of France.

Pegasus - Is a winged horse that could fly. It was born from the blood of Medusa's severed head.

In the Disney version of The Three Musketeers, Aramis referred to Rochefort as Cyclops. I felt it too good to pass up and used it and will possibly continue to do so.

Cyclops, though not really shown (yet) but referred too is a giant man with a single eye in the middle of his forehead.

Also, since I haven't used this all that often... for those of you who do not know what - _petite soeur_ stands for. It means: little sister.


	5. Chapter 4

_Still same day, mid afternoon - en route to Amiens_

High above the countryside, d’Artagnan and Pegasus flew through the sky for nearly an hour. Seeing no hint of trouble so far, he reached out with one hand and patted Pegasus' long, white mane while pulling the reins with his other making his winged horse head for the forest where Pegasus would not be seen transforming back into Zad. All d'Artagnan needed was for someone to spot them and become curious which would put the queen at greater risk.

Joining the detail again, d’Artagnan drew abreast of Athos. “Nothing untoward to report, sir.”

Blue eyes twinkling, along with a sardonic grin, Athos raised a finger at the lad and shook it. “Since when have you ever called me _sir_?”

Bending his head, d’Artagnan whispered something to Zad. Straightening up, he glanced sideways at his mentor and friend. “Zad said I have done it numerous times but never within your hearing.”

“Ah!” Athos laughed. “So that’s the way of it, eh?” He knew full well what the boy meant. The young Gascon was used to giving Athos and the child’s elders back talk from time to time. When they had disciplined the youth, d’Artagnan would always go stomping off complaining under his breath. Athos was positive that’s when the pup had muttered his _yes, sirs_.

“Eh, whelp,” Porthos waved d’Artagnan to join him up front, “so the coast is clear?”

“We covered a good part of the road we’re on and no malandrins in sight,” d’Artagnan then grinned adding in a whisper, “nor monsters.”

“Good to know,” Athos said from behind the youngster. “Put up with enough from Cacus yesterday.” Then he caught sight of Porthos’ amused face and heard Aramis' snickers from behind. Glaring at his larger brother, and twisting around in his saddle to stab an irritated look at Aramis, Athos snarked, “Have either one of you ticked off any of the gods lately?” he didn’t wait for them to answer. “Because if so it would be to our advantage to be prepared. For I do not care to have a repeat performance of what transpired to d’Artagnan and I.”

His lips twitching, Porthos didn’t dare reply for fear of Athos jumping down his throat. Not so his brother Aramis, who always jumped in with both feet before looking or opening his mouth.

“I’ve told you, Athos,” Aramis rolled his eyes, “tis that black cloud that continuously hovers over your head. Unfortunately our young Gascon got caught up in the fall out.” Hearing d’Artagnan hissing at him to shut up, Aramis belatedly followed the pup’s advice but the damage had already been accomplished.

Having heard the exchange from inside the carriage, Constance stuck her head out the window again. “If you were closer to me, Aramis, I’d slap you silly for that remark you just made to Athos.”

Loud guffaws came from d’Artagnan and Porthos, while Athos hid his mirth from underneath the wide brim of his chapeau. He knew that particular garment would come in handy. There were many a times while on parade duty that he had silently snickered at visiting noblemen who paid court to their king. If Athos had ever been allowed to voice his opinion to King Louis on what he truly felt about the monarch's guests, Athos wouldn't have been a bit surprised to have found himself in front of a firing squad. For not one of those dignitaries could compare to the men Athos now surrounded himself with. At the time he had hid those damning thoughts from prying eyes from the safety of his chapeau and continued to do so still.

“Monsieur _My Place or Yours_ Aramis here is lucky anyone wants to bother with you at all,” Constance snapped and withdrew her head from the window. She loved all of these men as if they were her own brothers but, out of all of them, understood what made Athos tick. So oftentimes it made Constance mad when Aramis teased his friend so.

“Ya really put your foot in it this time with the lady, Mis,” Porthos chuckled, noting d’Artagnan holding his sides from laughing so hard. “Hurt yourself, kid?”

“Tis a good kind of hurt, Porthos,” d’Artagnan’s eyes danced observing how uncomfortable Aramis now was.

“Gentlemen,” Athos drawled, gaining his brother’s attention, “eyes front.”

With that quietly issued command they continued on until they started to lose the light of day. Finding a suitable inn to spend the night in was next on their agenda and it hadn’t proved a problem. When the carriage stopped in front of the inn, Porthos and Aramis hopped off their horses first.

"D'Artagnan and I will remain out here," Athos said. "Aramis, you and Porthos go inside and discreetly check the place out," he held up a hand. "And in the meantime try not to get into any fights."

"You cut us to the quick, mon frere," Aramis noted his pretense of hurt caused their young Gascon some mild amusement when he saw d'Artagnan's lips quivering.

Athos' icy look was not lost on Porthos and he certainly didn't want to get on the mean side of the older man. "Mis will behave I'll guarantee it."

"I'll hold you to that," Athos grunted. "If all is as it should be then I will make arrangements with the proprietor for us to spend the night." Athos watched his friends enter the inn and counted the minutes until they came back out. “Well?” Athos was standing shoulder to shoulder with d'Artagnan as they stood guard in front of the carriage. Both men projected nervous energy tightly held in check for they knew not what would be discovered inside the innocent looking inn.

“Tis a clean establishment from what we saw of it,” Aramis offered.

“I didn’t ask for a report on the inn's hygiene,” Athos glowered at his brother.

Cuffing Aramis on the back of his head, Porthos frowned. “It’s okay. Checked it out from top ta bottom,” he winked at the whelp who was trying to hold back laughing at Aramis’ pout. “Even saw a few good escape routes if needs must.”

“Good man,” Athos acknowledged Porthos with a slight smile. With a last disgusted glance at Aramis, Athos turned away to speak with Artur their coachman.

Helping Queen Anne and Constance out of their carriage, d’Artagnan had a hand on each of the ladies’ arms.

“Don’t know what conditions are like upstairs though,” Porthos noted Constance’ smirk. “Eh, missy,” he grinned. “What’s brought that look inta your eyes?”

“I’ll be the judge of how _clean_ it is,” Constance huffed. “If I find the place unsuitable you lot will know right off.”

“Which means,” d’Artagnan snickered, seeing Queen Anne trying to hide a smile behind her hand, “we will all find ourselves hunting for another inn.”

“Really,” Queen Anne’s gaze encompassed them all, “I am not such a hot house flower that I will wilt if my rooms are not quite up to snuff,” she sighed. “Besides I am weary and would like nothing better than a hot meal, bath and bed… in that order.”

“It shall be as you wish, My Lady,” d’Artagnan lead the way inside.

“Aramis,” Athos glanced at their coachman, “help Artur with our horses.”

Well used to being around Musketeers, Artur jumped down from his perch on the carriage. “Messieurs, I need no help.”

“My thanks, Artur,” Aramis grinned thinking he was getting out of this chore and started to follow the procession into the inn until Athos crooked a finger at him.

“Not counting the team of horses Artur has to care for, there are our own mounts to consider.” He stabbed Porthos with a look that made his larger brother stop in his tracks as well. “You both will help Artur in this.”

Patting Aramis on the back, Porthos grinned. “We ain’t got any choice in the matter, mon frère.”

Muttering, “When do we ever?” Aramis went to help Artur unhitch the team.

Hearing words exchanged between his two brothers, Athos allowed a small smile to slip out. Walking behind Her Majesty, he tossed over his shoulder, “The sooner the job’s done, the sooner the both of you can eat.” He then disappeared inside the inn.

Leaving Artur to lead his team into the barn, Aramis went to take care of the others. “Porthos,” Aramis bumped his shoulder against the other man's, "perhaps later we could share a room and you could summon your staff.”

"Mis," Porthos scowled, "are ya suggestin' we get drunk while on duty?"

"Technically we'd be off duty in our own room while Queen Anne sleeps the night away," Aramis countered with a wily look gleaming in his dark eyes.

"I'm surprised at ya," Porthos led Roulette and Roger into the barn. "Tis the queen we guard. Didn't think I had ta remind ya of that." Getting drunk on his own time was one thing, but Porthos took his Musketeer duties seriously and would never be so overcome by alcohol that he'd be unable to perform his assignments. Especially now with the queen's life in their hands there was no way he'd have more than a glass or two of wine at dinner.

Taking Belle's and Zad's reins in his hands, Aramis followed close behind his brother. "I'm not talking about a wild night of debauchery," he huffed. "Just enough wine to dull the senses," he peeked at his silent friend. "Perhaps a bottle or two would do the trick."

"When I'm done I'll find a rock ta use on your head," Porthos grunted. "I'm tellin' ya, Aramis, ya do pick your moments," he shook his head sadly.

"But you love me anyway," Aramis laughed.

Rolling his eyes, Porthos snorted. "Don't know why I do. You're nothin' but a pain in my arse most of the time."

Placing a hand over his heart, Aramis appeared stunned. "You wound me, mon ami."

"Ain't possible," Porthos laughed heartily. "Now shut up so we can get this done quick like. Cause I'm hungry."

"As am I." Arams then went to settle Zad and Belle in their respective stalls. When he was done with that, both Aramis and Porthos made sure their horses had enough feed before leaving them.

++++

_Inside the inn_

Covered by a hooded cloak, Queen Anne made her way through the inn and up the stairs to her room without anyone being the wiser as to her identity. D'Artagnan and Athos had gone up ahead to make sure her room was secure. She would be sharing it with Constance so Queen Anne wasn't worried for her safety. Her young seamstress one day had boasted about how she had been learning sword and musket work from d'Artagnan. Later, when Queen Anne cornered d'Artagnan about it, he sheepishly admitted to doing so and informed her that Constance proved to be an apt pupil and had become quite proficient with the weapons. So Queen Anne felt she had a capable enough bodyguard in the form of the younger woman. Observing the two Musketeers come out of the room assigned to her, Queen Anne let out a tired sound. She was surprised at herself for she had been on lengthier journeys than this one and hadn't felt this weary. It must be her nerves preying upon her with worries on meeting up with George.

"Tis fine, Your Majesty," Athos dipped his head. "I'll find what they are serving tonight and have meals sent up to your room for both of you."

"Merci, Athos." Stepping inside her room, Queen Anne couldn't wait to throw off her cloak with Constance doing the same.

"I cannot wait for a hot bath," Constance' eyes twinkled. "Food first of course."

"If the aroma that greeted my nose when I first entered is anything to go by," Queen Anne grinned, "I think we're in for a delicious meal."

++++

Still standing on top of the landing d'Aragnan gazed at his mentor, a question on his lips. "You did procure our rooms to be beside theirs did you not?"

"Do I look like an imbecile to you?" Athos arched a brow.

"Tis a loaded question that," d'Artagnan chuckled despite the scowl enshrouding Athos' face. Slapping his brother on the back, d'Artagnan prodded the older man down the staircase. "Come, mon ami," his belly growled, "my stomach hungers."

"And how much does it take to feed a _puppy_ nowadays?" Athos scored a point seeing the boy's pout adorn his very young face.

"I wish I had that ability to turn into a chiot right this very minute," d'Artagnan shot back. "Then I'd bite your ankle or" he turned a mischievous eye on Athos, "piddle on you."

"If you had the misfortune to take a bite out of me," Athos chuckled, "I'd have tasted of sour wine and sickened you, child," he was amused at the lad's words. "Now if you had _piddled_ I would have taken exception to that." He continued following d'Artagnan down the steps. "Tis a sad fact of life that we may be descended from the gods but lack that particular power to transform," he mused.

"Still, it would have been nice to have." Finally reaching the bottom, d'Artagnan led the way to an empty table while Athos set about to ordering dinner for Her Majesty and Constance.

++++

_Someone else en route to Amiens_

Oblivious to the knowledge that Queen Anne had embarked on a lover's tryst, Milady didn't realize she was only hours away from the inn where Her Majesty was staying.

Through Milady's network of spies she had discovered that Buckingham was in Amiens. Personally, she had nothing against the handsome Englishman, but the cardinal was the one who lined her pockets. Milady enjoyed buying pretty things with the money she earned, too much to suddenly discover she had a heart after all and not follow through with this mission.

Closing her eyes, Milady tried to rest but the bumpy road her carriage traveled made sleeping difficult. Sticking a hand out the window she hollered out to the coachman. "Find the nearest inn! I will spend the night there!" Hearing the coachman yell back there was one close by Milady relaxed or tried to as they hit another bump. "It can't come soon enough," she muttered.

++++

_Back at the inn_

Finishing up before Athos, d'Artagnan patted his stomach. "A most satisfying meal."

"The way ya shoveled that food in your mouth tis a wonder you're not bustin' out at the seams," Porthos took a sip of wine. "How ya stay so skinny is a wonder."

"I burn it off, Porthos," d'Artagnan stood up. "Mes amis," he dipped his head. "I'm for my bed."

"Tis rather early for you to turn in is it not?" Athos queried. If he had not seen the way their youngest ate just now, Athos would have feared the lad was ill.

"Just a bit tired tis all." Being as close to his mentor as d'Artagnan was he could see the worry lines already forming on Athos' forehead. "No mother henning on this trip," he rolled his eyes. "I thought we agreed to that before we left the garrison."

"Tis hard not to where you are concerned, pup," Athos admitted and was glad that for once Aramis and Porthos weren't chiding him for it.

"Tell you what," d'Artagnan grinned impishly, "I'll let you feel my forehead later when you come up. You'll find not even a touch of fever will be troubling me."

"Get away with you, boy," Athos smiled, watching d'Artagnan take the steps two at a time.

"Think the kid's tellin' us the truth?" Porthos shared a concerned look with his brothers.

"He seemed fine so far," Aramis finished his drink. "I saw no signs of illness on our journey here."

"Let us finish our own meals before they grow cold," Athos suggested, pushing his worries aside for the moment.

++++

_D'Artagnan's and Athos' room_

Finding a bowl filled with clean, fresh water already in their room, d'Artagnan removed his clothing until he was left in his smalls. Bending over the bowl he splashed water onto his face. When d'Artagnan began to towel himself dry he glanced down into the water and then took a step or two back from it in fright. Perhaps he shouldn't have had that second glass of wine Aramis shoved at him. For when d'Artagnan stared down into the bowl he watched as the water began rippling on its own... turning into the face of a woman.

Bending forward d'Artagnan stared at her, his earlier fright had disappeared. But he was beginning to wonder if his words to Athos earlier were a lie and in fact d'Artagnan was truly ill since he was starting to see things.

"D'Artagnan," she spoke softly, "heed my words."

"Who are you?" d'Artagnan gripped the night stand, the bowl of water rested on, with both hands to keep himself upright. She had to be one of the gods. Never having been visited by one before, d'Artagnan didn't know how to react.

"I am the goddess Demeter, sister of Zeus and daughter of Cronus and Rhea," she announced. "I have watched over you from afar ever since you were born."

Not knowing what to say to that d'Artagnan instead said nothing at all, just dumbly nodded his head. Knowing that he was one of her descendants never prepared d'Artagnan for a time when Demeter would deign to speak with him.

"A dangerous woman is following the same path as your queen," Demeter told him. "Her _path_ leads to death. The Englishman your queen seeks is in the huntress' sights."

"What do you suggest?" d'Artagnan thought it was all well and good for Demeter to warn him. But if the goddess was under the delusion they could dissuade Queen Anne from continuing on this journey, then d'Artagnan would tell Demeter it would take a bigger god than herself to sway Her Majesty away from this course.

"If you cannot turn away from this path, make sure Queen Anne is protected well and that this huntress does not see her. For then it would be your queen's downfall," the water around Demeter's features began to ripple again as her face began to fade away.

"Wait!" d'Artagnan nearly shouted. "What about Buckingham?"

"Do your best to protect him from the huntress, d'Artagnan."

Seeing Demeter's face totally disappear after that, d'Artagnan now stared into a plain bowl of water. There was no sense in running back downstairs now, he'd wait until Athos came up to their room and impart Demeter's words. He thought, with some irony, that Athos would surely feel his forehead then.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See Notes below.
> 
> ++++

_Same evening - D'Artagnan's/Athos' room at the inn_

Surprised to see the young Gascon still awake, sitting cross-legged on the bed, Athos slowly walked over to the boy. "I thought you said you were tired?"

"I was until I was washing up and the goddess Demeter granted me her _great wisdom_ ," d'Artagnan voiced those last two words sourly, noting the look Athos gave him. It said one of two things to him... either d'Artagnan was feverish or he was pulling Athos' leg. "I am not making this up," he huffed and then began to explain everything the goddess had imparted to him.

"This secret mission is getting better and better," Athos remarked dryly as he began to remove his weapon's belt and doublet. "Demeter's wise council didn't suggest who this huntress was I gather?"

"Non," d'Artagnan shook his head, hugging a pillow to him.

"Of course not," Athos rolled his eyes. "Why did I even bother to ask?" Hearing the lad's quiet snort, Athos hid his own amusement behind a facade of nonchalance. "The gods may be all powerful but lousy when it comes to plain speaking."

"Tis a guessing game they like to play with us humans," d'Artagnan yawned. "I have to get some sleep," he stretched out on the bed. "We'll have to make an earlier than usual departure come the morn upon hearing this news."

"And because of that I will go inform Her Majesty of what you learned," Athos went to the door. "We'll have to skip breakfast and hit the road straight off," he noted d'Artagnan's eyes were at half mast already. "I certainly don't relish running into this assassin when we have one of France's precious jewels with us."

"You can wax poetic when you want to, mon frere," d'Artagnan mumbled as sleep finally claimed him.

"Hmmmpf!" Athos shook his head. " _Wax poetic_ indeed, pup." Quietly he left the room.

++++

After Milady's carriage arrived in front of the quaint looking inn, she went straight inside the building. Going over to the desk, where the proprietor stood, Milady asked for a room and dinner to be sent up to her. Glancing about the place, she appeared pleased. Milady had been in worse places but this one held an appeal of sorts for her. Milady's only wish was that she could have spent more than just one night here. Because of the lateness of her arrival, the proprietor had kindly informed Milady that the kitchen was closed for the evening but he could have a light snack sent up to her. Having that settled, Milady was led upstairs to her room not knowing that just two doors down rested the queen of France along with her young companion.

++++

_Next day, very early morning_

Since Athos had informed Queen Anne of d'Artagnan's unexpected news, she had made sure that Constance and herself were ready to depart at first light.

Before they left, Athos carried a hamper loaded down with food that the proprietor had prepared for their departure. This way all of them could eat breakfast while on their journey. They still had another two days yet to get to Amiens.

"D'Artagnan," Constance poked an arm out of the window, "care for another roll while tis still warm?"

"I've eaten three already," d'Artagnan dipped his head, "my thanks anyway."

"I'll take another one," Porthos said as he nudged Roulette closer to the carriage. Holding out his hand he couldn't wait for another hot biscuit.

"You're a never ending source of amusement for me, mon ami," Aramis coming up beside him on Belle.

Biting into the biscuit, Porthos appeared in heaven. "Now what are ya on about?"

"How you can stuff all that food inside you and still move about," d'Artagnan added with a quick wink at Aramis, "I believe tis what Aramis was getting at." Hearing Constance' delightful laughter from inside the carriage, along with the queen's, d'Artagnan's eyes lit up with his own mirth.

"Athos!" Porthos shouted. "Our brothers are picking on me again!"

"Not saying a word," Athos replied, but his shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.

"Think I can't see ya laughin' from 'ere," Porthos shook his head. "I don't get no respect."

"I respect you," d'Artagnan tried to mollify his giant of a friend. "I _respect_ the fact that you can out eat anyone I know."

"Mon Dieu!" Aramis burst out laughing, not bothering to hide it at all from Porthos. "Good one, d'Artagnan."

"I do my best," d'Artagnan dipped his head and had Porthos swat at it with his hat.

"Children," Athos tone hardened slightly, "we are guarding precious cargo, need I remind all of you of that fact?"

After Athos gained his brother's attention, they quickly finished eating and remained on guard.

++++

_Back at the inn_

Having slept in late, Milady treated herself to a fine breakfast and then got ready to leave. But as she waited to pay up with the proprietor, Milady heard a most interesting conversation coming from the dining area...

_"Curious wasn't it? What with all those Musketeers and those women last night," one man said._

_"Yeah, a bit mysterious there," another man answered. "Knew they were guarding them, but I don't get paid for questioning our guests."_

_"Was surprised at how early they left this morn," the other responded. "Ain't any of our business I guess."_

Intrigued about hearing that Musketeers had been here last eve, Milady was all the more curious as to the women those soldiers guarded. Making a mental note to keep an eye out for this entourage, she paid her fee and left the inn.

++++

 _Two days later - Amiens, Somme department in Picardy_

Stopping the carriage now that they were at their destination, Athos wondered as to where Queen Anne was to meet up with Buckingham. For Her Majesty hadn't informed them as yet.

"Athos," Queen Anne had Constance open the carriage door, "The Duke of Buckingham told me to go to the Cathedral Basilica of Our Lady of Amiens."

"A church?" Porthos glanced at Aramis in surprise, the latter simply shrugged.

"The duke has good taste in meeting places," Aramis was just as stunned as his brother.

"We're going to have to ask questions to find out where this cathedral is," Athos was not happy about that.

"Non," Queen Anne said. "Buckingham wrote to me that the basilica is located on a slight ridge overlooking the River Somme."

"Piece o' cake," Porthos winced at the glare Athos threw him. "Shoulda kept my mouth shut."

"Good advice," Athos grumbled.

Finding the River Somme didn't prove as difficult as it had first sounded and they finally found themselves in front of the cathedral.

Whistling through his teeth, Porthos stared up at the tall building. "Quite somethin' ain't it?"

"Tis a beautiful piece of architecture," Athos stated flatly, wanting nothing more than to have done with this entire affair so he could whisk the queen safely back to Paris.

Scratching his beard, Aramis appeared to be pondering something.

"What's on your mind?" questioned d'Artagnan.

"Curious choice of venue for a meeting place do you not think?" It was still bothering Aramis on why Buckingham picked here of all places. Tilting his head to the side, he studied the young Gascon's face.

"The duke's enamored of her," d'Artagnan shrugged his slim shoulders. "He's catering to Queen Anne's catholic faith."

"Good enough," Aramis smiled. Hearing the pup's simple explanation made perfect sense to him.

Escorting the queen inside, Athos bowed. "We will stand guard a discreet distance away but close enough if you need aid."

"Merci," she smiled gratefully at her Musketeer.

"Why didn't Constance come inside?" Porthos glanced out the heavy doors and waved at the young woman still in the carriage.

"There is nothing for her to do," d'Artagnan pointed out. "We're not here to see the sights."

"Yeah, guess so," Porthos grunted. "Still, ain't right her sittin' all alone like."

"Keep your eyes and ears open for any signs of trouble," Athos ordered, "and stop worrying about Constance."

"Keep putting your foot in it, Porthos," Aramis chuckled as the larger man glowered at him. "Tis a nice change for Athos' ire to not fall on me this time."

"Away with you, Mis," Porthos growled. "Eyes on the queen like Athos ordered."

++++

Her spies had told her that Buckingham would be at the cathedral today, and her coachman had wasted precious little time in getting her here. So when Milady's carriage was fast approaching the basilica she was surprised to see another coach there as well. Poking her head out the window Milady shouted, "Pull the coach around the other side of the building!" Whomever was inside the other coach, Milady would rather not be seen by the occupants.

It was a curious thing to think upon that the Englishman was visiting a catholic church. But Milady realized that Buckingham had to be meeting someone here. The who and the why were left to her imagination. Perhaps Milady would benefit from finding out who it was before she disposed of the duke. She gathered the cardinal would pay a pretty penny for that information as well.

Gaining entry from another entrance, Milady slipped quietly inside the cathedral. What she hadn't counted on was running afoul of Musketeers. Namely one in particular, that nearly gave her heart failure, for she thought him gone from her life. Running into her previous husband was the very last thing Milady expected as all the color leeched from her face.

Nearly dropping his rapier, Athos croaked, "Anne!" He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes, thinking it was an apparition. Opening them again, he still saw her standing in front of him. "Impossible! I saw you hanged!"

Coming back to her senses Milady sneered, removing her choker to expose a most unseemly looking scar. "You didn't stick around long enough to see the bloody deed done!" Milady spat venomously. "I escaped that fate but was left with this lovely token of your affections!"

"Mon Dieu! I thought you dead and gone," Athos moaned. "Out of my life for all time," he stared at her bleakly. "Though you torment my dreams nightly."

"Tis nice to know that you think so kindly of my memory," Milady snarled.

Shaken to his core, Athos gathered his strength. "What are you doing here?" he hissed. Knowing this could not be a coincidence. Demeter's words to d'Artagnan rang loudly in his head, like cymbals crashing together. Knowing what Anne was, she had to be the _huntress_ referred to by the goddess.

"None of your business," she countered swiftly. Milady couldn't waste anymore time, worrying that she'd miss her opportunity to do away with the duke. Touching the red ruby on her choker it began to softly glow.

Hearing a roar from behind him Athos whirled around, his heart dropped to the soles of his feet, for there stood a Chimaera with its jaws open wide to take a bite out of him. Jumping back a few feet away from it, Athos summoned his aegis enabling him to protect himself from the hideous beast. While the Chimaera breathed fire upon Athos, the monster's snake-like tail tried to knock him to the ground. Battling the creature, Athos other hand wielded his golden rapier as he tried his best to fight against the Chimaera's strength. First Cacus tried to burn him to a crisp and now it appears tis this monster's turn. His day had just gone from bad to worse. "Aramis! Porthos! D'Artagnan!" Athos yelled out. "To me Musketeers!"

In other parts of the cathedral his brothers heard Athos' cry and rallied forth.

"Merde!" Porthos was the first to reach Athos' side. "He's an ugly bastard!" He drew out his bronze rapier and joined in the chaos.

Running towards the sounds of battle, Aramis was out of breath by the time he reached his brothers. "I don't believe this!" Pulling out his musket Aramis primed it and took aim.

While the inseparables were kept busy with the Chimaera, d'Artagnan was in another part of the cathedral caught in the sights of the huntress he had been warned about.

"Ah!" Milady chuckled low in her throat. "Tis nice to finally meet you up close and personal, d'Artagnan," she purred.

"Mademoiselle," d'Artagnan's eyes took in the lovely picture she made standing before him in her pretty frock. But he was at a loss as to how this woman knew his name when, to d'Artagnan's knowledge, his path had never crossed her own. He had simply taken her to be a visitor to the basilica as they were but in this d'Artagnan was proven wrong.

"Tis Madame," she corrected, "but you may call me _Milady_." This child was quite the handsome one she thought. It would be a pity if Milady were to end his life so prematurely. So she thought to give him a sound piece of advice. "Turn away from here and forget you ever saw me," she whispered.

"Why would I want to do that?"

"If you want to live, my young Gascon," Milady chuckled. "I like _living_... don't you?"

Then it dawned on him who this was and d'Artagnan could have kicked himself clear back to the garrison for being taken so off guard by her beauty. "I have a duty to perform and alas," d'Artagnan shrugged, "I cannot shirk it. Even for one so lovely as you."

"Wrong choice," Milady's green eyes narrowed on her next victim. "You see, d'Artagnan, under other circumstances this could have been fun," she smiled. "But I have a job to do and you're... in... my... way." Reaching an arm over her back Milady retrieved an arrow from its quiver.

His eyes widened at the sight of her silver hunting bow, that suddenly appeared in Milady's other hand, as she quickly armed it with a golden arrow. Not having time enough to summon his golden scythe, d'Artagnan dove for cover but wasn't quite fast enough as Milady's arrow hit him in the upper right thigh.

Screaming in agony, d'Artagnan writhed on the ground before passing out from shock and pain of his injury.

Standing over the boy's inert form, Milady tisked. "Pity, you would have made a delightful new paramour." Stepping over d'Artagnan's body, Milady went in search of Buckingham.

++++

_Note:_

The Cathedral Basilica of Our Lady of Amiens or simply Amiens Cathedral, is a Roman Catholic cathedral and seat of the Bishop of Amiens (currently Jean-Luc Bouilleret). It is the tallest of the large, classic, Gothic churches of the 13th century and the largest in France of its kind. It's the administrative capital of the Picardy region of France, some 120 kilometres (75 miles) north of Paris. It is the 19th largest church in the world.

Chimaera - Firebreathing monster with a head of a lion, body of a goat and tail of a snake.

Being descended from Artemis, Milady can summon her own bow and arrows. Her quiver is full of enchanted gold and silver arrows, which could be used to bring sudden death or plagues/illnesses whichever she chooses.

Referring to Athos' golden blade and Porthos' bronze one, is the fact that celestial bronze and imperial gold metals could be used to defeat monsters. With celestial bronze it could usually kill on contact, turning the monsters into a cloud of dust. Imperial gold is rare. Deadly to monsters and immortals along with their descendants.


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just discovered two websites with new fiction books written on The Musketeers. You can also purchase them on Amazon.  
> Themusketeerseries.com (deals with 2 books so far dealing with Athos).  
> Thequeensmusketeers.com has 3 books called the d'Artagnan collection. And a separate Musketeer book as well.  
> I'm going to hopefully order the books from Thequeensmusketeers series at work tomorrow. The library where I work purchases a lot of material through amazon.  
> Thought I'd share these sites with you.
> 
> Also see note at bottom.
> 
> ++++

_Same place we left all our Musketeers... in jeopardy_

The inseparables were busy battling the Chimaera when they heard the piercing cry of their youngest. Shaken to their core they wanted to run to d'Artagnan's aid but the Chimaera had other ideas as it did its best to bring them all to their knees.

"Mon Dieu!" Athos heard his protégé's scream and a shudder ran up and down his body. Not from the beast they were trying to slay but in fear for their pup. "Mes freres, let us end this swiftly! D'Artagnan is in need of us!"

"Distract it somehow," Porthos hollered, "so I can get close enough!" It felt like for every step he took toward the monster it beat him back even further. "Just need one swing of my blade ta kill it!"

Knowing he had injured the Chimaera several times over with his own blade, Athos however didn't manage to kill it. Between Aramis shooting it in its belly and Athos making some strategic cuts to the creature's tail, they had the monster's attention focused on themselves giving Porthos time to make his move.

With an all powerful lunge, Porthos thrust his blade deeply into the Chimaera, piercing its neck. Rearing up on two legs, the monster's death roar rattled in its throat as the creature burst into a cloud of dust.

Satisfied that the Chimaera was no longer a threat, the inseparables wanted nothing more than to will their bodies to appear at the place d'Artagnan was. But that wasn't a feasible prospect since they had all separated to take up their own places in the basilica to guard the queen but still manage to give her privacy. Which left the men to start their search on foot for the whereabouts of their young one.

"Make haste, gentlemen!" Athos growled. "But stick together," he tacked on, "even though our boy needs us."

"Yeah," Porthos grunted. "Never know what other beasties are waitin' ta pounce on us."

Crossing himself, Aramis murmured a quick prayer.

"That gonna keep us safe, Mis?"

"Tis as good a place as any for prayers," Aramis crossed himself again after finishing his prayer, though worry for their youngest was upper most in his mind.

God or the gods were with the inseparables as shortly after they nearly stumbled over the unconscious youth hidden in a darkened corner.

"Nom de Dieu!" Athos swore viciously when he noted the golden arrow protruding from the upper part of d'Artagnan's right thigh.

Dropping to his knees, Aramis gently placed his hands on the pup's leg. Biting his lip he was of two minds on how to proceed.

"I'll hold the whelp down for ya," Porthos knew the procedure having been there before. Beginning to kneel, he paused at the look on Aramis' face. "What?"

"If the arrow has pierced an artery," Aramis tried to look closer at the injury, "once I pull it out d'Artagnan could bleed to death."

"What are the alternatives?" Athos felt dread fill him at the thought that they could lose the boy they so cherished. He had no one else to blame but himself. Anne still lived... to haunt him and now d'Artagnan. Bitterly reproaching himself, Athos would not be able to continue on if the pup died. If they were to lay his protégé in the cold ground then Athos would willingly climb in beside the boy until dirt covered them both.

"Let me think!" Aramis uncharacteristic shout startled both his brothers as they jumped back in surprise. "First things first," he snapped. "I need my medical supplies from my saddlebags."

"I'll get them!" Porthos quickly transported himself away.

"Athos, you better see to the queen," Aramis could see that their leader appeared torn. "D'Artagnan would want you to do that," he shrugged, "after all tis because of him that we are all here."

"Non," Athos corrected, "tis because of the queen's love for an Englishman that we are all here." With one last look at the young Gascon, Athos transported himself to the last place they had left Her Majesty and Buckingham.

++++

_Hidden alcove behind the church altar_

Instantly reappearing in front of the small room where the couple was, Athos didn't have time for niceties and prayed he wouldn't be interrupting something that his eyes should never light upon. When Athos burst through the door, it was impossible for him not to notice he had intruded on an intimate moment. Right now he cared not for how they felt. The queen's life would become a living hell if it were ever found out that she had been secretly meeting the Duke of Buckingham.

"Athos!" she turned a cold eye on the Musketeer. "What do you think you are doing!"

"Saving your life," Athos stated flatly seeing Her Majesty's eyes widen in alarm. "Demeter's warning," Athos arched a brow, knowing he had no need to spell it out for her.

"The huntress is here?" she felt as if the bottom had fallen out from underneath her feet. Looking up into the concerned gaze of her George, Anne placed a fingertip upon his lips. "We're both in grave peril and must leave from here."

Studying the severe features of the Musketeer before him, Buckingham didn't want to appear weak. "I shall take care of this huntress myself."

"If you think that then you are a greater fool than I already thought to believe," Athos shouldn't have said those words but the duke was an Englishman and he could care less if Buckingham lost his life. But the queen and d'Artagnan were a totally different story. Athos would defend them both to the bitter end if needs be.

"You do not care for me, Musketeer?" Buckingham liked people who spoke their own mind and wasn't the least insulted from this man's remarks. Though the look his Anne was giving the Musketeer didn't bode well for later.

"I am here under the bidding of my queen," Athos dipped his head toward Her Majesty. "Guarding her is my main priority."

"Good enough," Buckingham smiled grimly. "You do not believe I can defeat this woman?"

"She is descended from Artemis and is greatly skilled in slaying," Athos' mouth twisted, "especially men."

"Then you must get out of here as quickly as possible," Anne urged her lover. "And heed my words, George. We cannot meet ever again." She ran the back of her hand tenderly down one side of his face. "Adieu, mon amour," Anne sadly whispered.

"Not words a man like myself wants to hear," George gazed into her heart wrenching face, gliding a lone finger down the side of one tear stained cheek. "Doesn't mean that I will heed them either." Bringing one of her hands up to his mouth, he placed a chaste kiss upon it. "In turn I'll say au revoir."

"Your Majesty," Athos tugged on her arm, "we must get you out of here now," he hissed urgently. "Your virtue will be undeniably compromised if you were to be caught." Watching the lovers quickly exchange a last brief kiss, Athos guided Queen Anne through the door.

++++

_Outside the cathedral_

Noting Porthos' use his ability to suddenly appear out of nowhere, Constance jumped out of the carriage and ran over to where he stood beside Belle. "Something's wrong. What is it?" she pulled one of his arms, not letting go until Constance had her answer. "And don't lie to me either."

"D'Art's hurt real bad," Porthos rummaged through Aramis' saddlebags until he found the medical supplies needed. "Mis needs these for the whelp."

"I'm coming with you," Constance could tell Porthos was about to argue the point with her and she stamped her feet.

"Now, missy, Mis needs these in a hurry and ya know very well I can't take ya with me."

"Where are they, Porthos?" she insisted.

"I guess me tellin' ya ta stay safe inside the carriage ain't gonna cut it?" he grumbled.

"What do you think?" Constance huffed and listened as Porthos gave her directions. When he disappeared, she ran up the steps of the basilica and through the churches' doors as if her feet had developed wings. 

++++

Rushing past Athos and Queen Anne, Constance halted mid-stride as Athos' bellowed.

"What the deuce do you think you're doing Constance? We've got an assassin on the loose!" Athos made to grab Constance by the arm but the young woman had other ideas as she danced out of reach. "Constance!" he yelled. "I've got enough on my mind with the queen's safety and d'Artagnan's injury to deal with. I don't need to worry about your welfare as well."

"My young champion's hurt," Queen Anne glanced at Athos' impassive face then at the worry filling Constance. "How bad is it?"

"Porthos told me d'Artagnan's badly injured and he had come to get medical supplies for Aramis," Constance wanted nothing more than to be by her young friend's side and didn't want to tarry any longer than necessary. "That's where I'm headed as Porthos couldn't take me with him."

"Go, go," Queen Anne murmured quietly, understanding that her Musketeer's abilities only stretched so far. She watched the young woman run down the hallway until Constance was out of sight. Realizing what folly Queen Anne's tryst turned out to be, she now concerned herself over d'Artagnan's fate. She was about to ask Athos if she could accompany the others but one look into his flinty eyes made Queen Anne hold her tongue. Honestly she should berate Athos for his attitude toward Buckingham but understood that Athos had no allegiance to the duke and was only doing his duty by her. 

"Constance," Athos yelled after her, "do not dare to get yourself hurt!" But he knew he talked to the wind as Constance's flying figure disappeared from his view.

++++

Irritated beyond belief that her prey had seemingly slipped through her fingers, Milady knew bone chilling fear. She had to face Richelieu and his demon dog from hell. A meeting Milady didn't relish in the slightest. Having to think upon a good lie to tell His Eminence would be something to work upon on her way back to Paris. Add to that and finding out that her husband was now a Musketeer in service to King Louis, Milady feared they would have more run ins. If d'Artagnan lived, she would investigate further into how close the boy was to Athos since they were on this assignment together. Oh Milady knew there were other Musketeers in their party but had yet to meet up with them. Curiosity killed the cat so they say. Well this cat had more than nine lives to live and Milady would live them very well.

++++

"Aramis," Constance's breath nearly left her as she spotted the arrow sunk deeply into d'Artagnan's leg. "Oh, my poor boy," she fell to her knees beside Aramis. "What can I do to help?"

"I've been praying to God and to Asclepius for how to proceed," Aramis lips tightened. "I believe from the direction the arrow went in that it hasn't struck an artery," he blew out a breath. "Therefore I am simply going to pull it out," he winced. "But even though our young Gascon is unconscious tis still going to hurt like the blue blazes when I remove the arrow."

"I'll hold 'em down for ya," Porthos offered and went to his knees.

"Constance?" Aramis tilted his head observing the young woman biting her lips.

"I'm here for support," she huffed, "it would seem." Constance began dabbing at the sweat covering d'Artagnan's face.

"On my count, Porthos," Aramis nodded at the larger man, seeing Porthos brace the lad's upper body with one strong arm and use the other to hold down d'Artagnan's uninjured leg, Aramis began his count. "One... two... three!" Quickly Aramis yanked out the golden projectile. 

Starting to thrash his head to and fro, d'Artagnan let out a pitiful moan as his body began to buck off the hands holding him down.

"Shhhh, mon garcon," Aramis quietly uttered. "The worst has been done." Observing Constance's fingers making soothing circles on the youth's forehead, Aramis noted how it seemed to calm the Gascon down. "It would appear I made the right call," Aramis was relieved. There was blood but not a life threatening amount to deal with. He quickly staunched the flow and applied a poultrice from the supplies he had. After bandaging the wound, Aramis motioned for Porthos to pick d'Artagnan up. "I'll have to check later to see if d'Artagnan develops a fever. The huntress' arrow didn't kill him outright but that doesn't mean it won't bring illness along with it."

"Ya think that's what she did ta the whelp?" Porthos understood that the assassin's arrows could do whatever the huntress wanted.

"Time will tell, mon ami." Aramis placed an arm around Constance's shoulders as they followed Porthos out of the cathedral.

++++

_Outside the basilica_

Watching the procession slip past the doors Athos, who had been nervously pacing up and down in front of the coach, stopped dead. The sight of his pup being cradled against Porthos' chest brought a huge lump to his throat. Coming back to his senses, he opened the carriage door for them. "Apologies, Your Majesty, but tis going to be a bit cramped in your carriage for a time."

"I do not mind, Athos," Queen Anne's eyes took in the solemn entourage heading toward her. "I just want d'Artagnan to be well again."

Constance got in first and then motioned for the others to give d'Artagnan to her.

Helping Porthos settle d'Artagnan inside, Athos observed Constance glide her fingers through the boy's hair as the lad's head rested on her lap.

"Did anyone catch sight of who this assassin was?" Aramis stuffed the bloody rags he had inside his saddlebags.

"My wife," Athos tone was deadly to anyone who knew the man. His brothers knew him well and Athos watched as Porthos and Aramis were stunned speechless at first.

"Bloody 'ell, Athos!" Porthos blurted out. "Ya never told us ya was married!"

"Thought I was a widower," Athos muttered, "didn't seem any point in saying anything."

"Let me get this straight," Aramis held up his hand. "Your wife is the huntress and you believed her to be dead," his eyes narrowed on his older brother. "Why did you think her gone?"

"Tis by my order that I handed out her death sentence." A deafening silence greeted Athos' ears.

++++

 _Notes:_  
_Asclepius_ \- god of medicine


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm still feeling under the weather. Started out as slight flu, turned into a cold of sorts with a cough but I'm still a tad feverish. Having to go to work feeling like this is no fun of which I'm sure a lot of you have done as well. But trying to take my mind off of it by working on my story.  
> Anyway, I wish all of you who celebrate a lovely Easter.  
> I'm hoping I feel better by then too.
> 
> ++++
> 
> Okay, just saw this and thought I'd share this link. Hopefully it works.  
> http://delreythemilathosquote.tumblr.com/post/141598837027/the-musketeers-season-3-greek-promo-from  
> This is the new trailer for season 3 of The Musketeers. None of us have seen it yet because... are you ready for it? Apparently this is causing quite a bit of bad feelings over in the UK. TPTB are releasing this next week. The series is to air first over in Greece, Turkey, and New Zealand according to someone over at spoilertv.com. One said she saw it advertised for Greek cable TV to air Mar. 29th. So that leaves everyone in the UK and US wondering when we are going to see it.  
> I believe this trailer, which is quite good, is in Greek.
> 
> ++++

_Same time... same place - still in front of the cathedral_

“Sounds like a story to talk over a good glass of Anjou later after we find a place to take d’Artagnan,” Aramis acknowledged Athos after his revelation to them about his wife. Their leader was looking older than his years and sick with worry for their pup on top of that. Climbing into the carriage as well, Aramis made his excuses to the women squeezing into the tight space as best he could. Looking into the queen’s concerned gaze he removed his hat giving it to Constance. “Your Majesty, the boy needs better treatment than the field dressing he received. We have to find a place to stay so I can look after d’Artagnan properly.”

“I am on no time table, Aramis,” Queen Anne spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb her young champion any more than possible, noting d’Artagnan’s head turn restlessly in Constance’s lap. He was muttering in his native tongue and she knew not the words except for periodic cries for his parents. “There are numerous places we could stay in Amiens. Let us find one quickly.”

Leaning out the carriage window, Aramis waved Athos closer. “We head into town to seek a hotel so I can treat the lad’s wound better.”

Dipping his head Athos agreed. “Tis a sound idea. I was going to suggest it as well.” He rode up ahead to inform Artur of a change in plans.

++++

_In the city of Amiens_

Finding a hotel of good repute was not difficult for them and Athos, along with Porthos, quickly went inside to make arrangements. They informed the manager of their injured brother so the man knew what to expect when they brought their pup inside.

Getting d’Artagnan out of the carriage proved more difficult than getting him in. Aramis was trying to keep pressure on the wound while Porthos struggled to get the lad out without causing further damage to the youngster’s leg.

Athos nervously waited outside while watching the men try to figure it out. “Mon Dieu!” his patience was thread bare at this point. “Porthos!” he shouted. “Let me do it, parbleu!”

“Hold your horses!” Porthos growled low in his throat. “We’re doin’ the best we can in these cramped quarters!”

“Gentlemen,” Queen Anne got their attention, “perhaps tis better if Constance and I remove ourselves from the carriage first.”

Porthos and Aramis stared at each other stupidly, both men blushed until their cheeks turned bright red.

“We shoulda thought of that in the first place,” Porthos snorted, exchanging a comical look with the marksman.

“Oui,” Aramis nodded, jumping out of the carriage after Porthos so the women could get out.

Arching both brows, Athos stared moodily at his brothers wondering how his two friends could be so obtuse at times. He made sure to be on guard around Queen Anne while they waited for his brothers to remove d’Artagnan to safer quarters.

Huffing and puffing, Aramis held the boy by the shoulders while Porthos took the lad’s legs.

“D’Artagnan weighs more than I thought,” Aramis pointed out. “He always appeared to be a bean pole.”

“Stuffs his face like nobody’s business, kid does,” Porthos smiled, remembering the last time he and the whelp had gone out to dinner without his two brothers in tow. “Kid kept up with me the entire time we ate at The Wren and that takes somethin’.”

“We can talk about d’Artagnan’s eating habits later,” Athos snapped impatiently. “Get him inside now!”

“I believe we have stepped on Athos’ last nerve, mon ami,” Aramis whispered to Porthos.

"Athos ain't got any nerves left ta be stepped on," Porthos muttered while carefully carrying the whelp inside the hotel. They followed one of the staff up to the room that had been assigned to the Musketeers. Gently, Aramis and Porthos laid d'Artagnan on top of the bed covers.

The maid who had brought them to their room wondered what had befallen the younger man and could see blood seeping through a bandage on the boy's leg. "Do you require anything else, messieurs?"

Brushing his damp curls from his face, Aramis turned toward her. "If you could order hot water, clean cloths, and a bottle of brandy up," he graced her with a small smile, "that should be sufficient." Before rushing off the maid was curious about one of the items. "If you don't mind my asking, Monsieur," she lowered her eyes, "but tis seems an odd time to drink when your friend is injured."

He couldn't help himself, Aramis began to chuckle as a blush rose on the young girl's face. "Tis for medicinal purposes to help clean the lad's injury," he held up a finger. "But after the day we've had if anything's left I'll guarantee to finish it off myself." Seeing a slight smile break out on the maid's face, Aramis was happy to have made her feel better.

"I'll see to everything at once," dropping a curtsy, she scurried out the door.

Stepping inside the room, Constance was wringing her hands. "Her Majesty and I are sharing the room beside this one," her eyes filled with tears seeing d'Artagnan hurt so. "I am worried so for him."

Laying his large hand on her dainty shoulder, Porthos smiled into her eyes. "Constance, we all know how deuce stubborn d'Artagnan can be," hearing her soft snort his eyes lit with amusement, "takes a lot to keep our whelp down."

Laying her head on Porthos' solid shoulder Constance sniffed, holding back more tears that had gathered. "I know," she smiled tremulously, "tis good to hear it from someone else though." She sat on the edge of the bed, running her fingers through d'Artagnan's hair. "Jacques will never let either of us leave his sight for a very long time when we get home."

"Jacques will have no say as far as d'Artagnan's concerned," Athos stated firmly. "The lad's a Musketeer and goes where ordered and your husband knows that, Constance."

"Try telling him that after that last time you lot came back from a mission and Jacques and I dealt with a sick d'Artagnan for nigh onto a week," she fired back.

"Whelp shoulda told us he weren't feelin' all that well," Porthos grunted, earning a wide-eyed stared from Aramis. "None of the rest of us got sick."

"Tis because our pup refuses to wear a hat," Aramis tisked. "His head got soaking wet from that storm we got caught up in. That bloody Gascon stubborn streak of his prevented the lad from admitting he was feeling sick."

"Anyway," Constance felt d'Artagnan's forehead, "tis hard not to care about him," she bit her lip hard. "Aramis, his fever's risen."

"The supplies I ordered should be coming shortly." Just after he uttered those words, there was a knock upon their door. Opening it, two men came in carrying steaming kettles of hot water and the other items Aramis needed. "Merci, gentlemen."

"Can I be of any help?" Constance watched as Aramis unbound d'Artagnan's leg wound. "Looks like tis already festered. Isn't that awfully fast?"

"Tis caused from her arrow," Aramis quickly began to work. "How strong are you?" he stabbed Constance with a look that said - _don't lie to him_. "Because once I pour this brandy on d'Artagnan's injury he'll be fighting tooth and nail to get free of me."

Sighing, Constance admitted, "Not that strong I'm afraid," she glanced over at Athos and Porthos. "I'll leave you to it then. The queen probably has need of me anyway." She glanced over her shoulder one last time before leaving. "But I will return in a little while."

After she left, Aramis motioned for his brothers to help him. "Hold him down. This isn't going to be pleasant for any of us." As soon as the brandy touched the injured flesh, d'Artagnan woke up and began to scream, bucking under their hands.

"Dieu!" Athos didn't think he could bear to hear d'Artagnan's cries any longer. "Tis a wonder the staff doesn't think we're murdering someone up here."

"Ifin' anyone's brave enough ta pop their head in our room," Porthos growled trying to keep the whelp still, "I'll tell 'em we are."

"Oh that would go down nicely," Athos remarked sarcastically. The boy's screams died down to moans as he writhed underneath Aramis' hands. When d'Artagnan's body finally went limp, they all realized he had passed out from the pain.

"I think I can handle the rest from him, mon freres," Aramis then began the job of soaking the clean cloths in the hot water provided. While he continued d'Artagan's care, Aramis glanced over at Athos standing close to where the lad's head laid. Their leader had his fingers gently carding through the pup's hair. "I believe Constance already did that." Seeing Athos' scowl directed at him, Aramis thought upon another question that needed asking. "So... your _wife_?"

"I was hoping you would have forgotten," Athos muttered grabbing a chair to sit down on, not losing touch with d'Artagnan the whole time. "What's to say?" he casually shrugged. "I was young and extremely foolish. We met back in Pinon and I, like a fool, fell instantly in love."

"What about her?" Porthos asked, knowing there was a hell of a lot more to the story than what Athos admitted so far.

"Somehow my younger brother Thomas found out what she truly was and Anne killed him to keep him quiet," Athos' voice faded away.

"Tis horrible," Aramis muttered. "But what was so terrible that she would kill your brother over?"

"Anne lied about her past. She was a thief and a murderess even before we had met," Athos ran a hand through his unruly hair. "Perhaps she thought me a soft touch. Young, rich and stupid into the bargain."

"Easy pickin's in other words," Porthos added.

"Exactly," Athos ground his teeth together so firmly that his jaw began to ache, but then he relaxed them to ease off the pressure building in his head. "I was the Comte de La Fere back then with full authority given to me over my lands and people. I ordered her to be hung but I was too cowardly to watch and left before it was finished," he added bitterly. "Perhaps if I had stayed Anne would truly have died that dreadful day."

"You could play the _what if_ game from now ta doomsday, mon ami," Porthos grunted, feeling badly for what his brother had gone through. "What's done is done. Nothin' ya can do about it now."

"When we get back to Paris I'll have to have a long talk with Treville about who Anne could possibly be working for." Athos placed his face in both hands and leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees. "If there's any brandy left, Aramis, I'll take some."

Smiling, Aramis held the bottle up in the air. "Just enough for the two of us." Hearing Porthos' grumbles he laughed lightly. "Perhaps next time one of us gets hurt you can have what's left."

"Merde!" Porthos shook his head. "Guess Athos needs it more than me." Then a curious thought made Porthos look harder at their leader. "Does the captin' know about your past?"

"Oui," Athos gave a sharp jerk of his head. "One of the reasons Treville took me in hand and trained me to be his lieutenant," he leaned back in his chair. "Treville knew I was on the verge of self-destructing."

"Seems ta me ya still are," Porthos snorted and heard Aramis snicker in the background.

"So because of your _not so dead_ wife," Aramis finished up re-bandaging the boy's leg, "we have her to thank for bringing you into our lives."

Grimacing, Athos began to tune his brothers out. His only true concern for the moment was laying in the bed he sat beside. "I'll make her pay for hurting d'Artagnan."

Exchanging a look between them, Porthos and Aramis decided not to fan the flames any further or they may burn the hotel down around them.

++++

_Palais-Cardinal_

Milady decided not to take the carriage back to Paris in the traditional way as before. Instead she chose to simply transport herself back to the Palais-Cardinal. Might as well get this over and done with now. Making sure not to enter the demon's den unarmed, Milady had her quiver of arrows on her back. Gripping her silver hunting bow tightly in one hand, she made her entrance.

Clapping his hands together, Richelieu stood up. "I congratulate you."

Taken aback at the greeting, Milady stopped cold. Hearing the hellhound growling she shot it a quelling glance for Milady was not in a tolerating mood where that beast was concerned. And for once, to her amazement, Cerberus actually appeared to back down. Taking it as a win for once, Milady faced the cardinal. "You're _congratulations_ are a bit premature, I'm sorry to say."

"I know that already," Richelieu noted surprise register on her lovely features. "My reach is far and wide which you no doubt already know."

"Then why the congratulations?"

"Oh that," he laughed, waving his hand nonchalantly, "for your defeat of course."

"You're taking all of this very well," Milady huffed, annoyed that Richelieu found it all so amusing. She admitted to herself that not knowing what the cardinal's game was anymore unsettled her. That in itself was a scary proposition. It was then Cerberus started to act more like himself, turning into a three headed beast as it growled menacingly at Milady. Rounding on the creature from the underworld, Milady pulled a silver arrow from her quiver to arm her bow. "I'd be careful if I were you, Cerberus!" she aimed for one of its heads.

"Finding yourself brave, mon cherie?" Richelieu chuckled, taking his amusement where he could find it.

"You should be furious," Milady quirked a brow, "should you not?" She hated this cat and mouse game Richelieu loved to play.

"Ah bien," Richelieu shrugged casually. "Buckingham's not dead and headed back to England by now," he rubbed a finger across his goatee. “There will be another time I’m sure,” he stepped closer to her. “Tell me, did you get distracted by something? Is that why Buckingham missed getting hit by one of your arrows?”

“Musketeers,” she muttered.

“ _Musketeers_ … in Amiens?” Richelieu’s brows rose so high they nearly climbed off his head.

"I thought you just said your reach was _far and wide_ ," she sneered. "Apparently not far enough," Milady tacked on for good measure.

"Evidently my spies didn't get the whole picture," Richelieu snapped, not pleased with her uppity attitude with him.

Thinking of one Musketeer in particular, Milady had to wonder if he still went by Olivier. She would make it a point to find out. “I set up the usual road blocks but the delay caused me to miss my chance with the Englishman.”

“I’m more interested as to why Treville’s Musketeers were there and whom he had sent,” sitting back behind his desk, Richelieu waved a hand of dismissal toward her.

Happy for a reprieve, Milady gladly left.

++++

_Amiens – Two hours later, back at the hotel_

Coming quietly into the room, Queen Anne stopped short at the scene before her. Aramis leaned back in his chair, eyes closed with legs stretched out on top of the bed. While Porthos laid lengthwise on the bottom of the bed, one hand resting on d’Artagnan’s ankle as Porthos softly snored. But her breath caught in her throat at the picture Athos presented. Queen Anne’s stoic Musketeer laid beside her young champion, turned on his side facing the boy. His hand was placed on top of the lad’s chest as if to monitor d’Artagnan’s breathing. The love she felt in this room nearly overwhelmed her. It poured from the inseparables to the youngster they took into their tightknit group.

Then Queen Anne's gaze fell upon the other side of the bed where she saw her red headed Constance. The young woman's face was tucked into d'Artagnan's neck as Constance was bent over most awkwardly in her chair. My but she's going to have a backache later. Queen Anne tip toed over to where her seamstress sat and gently tapped the younger woman on one cheek. "Constance," Queen Anne whispered, not wanting to wake the others up.

When Constance yawned, blinking sleep out of her eyes, she instantly straightened up in her seat seeing Queen Anne standing in front of her. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty," Constance could feel her face heating up under the other woman's kind gaze. "I only meant to stay a short time and come back to you again but..." she trailed off when the queen held up her hand.

"No need to say more," Queen Anne smiled. "Go back to our room and I'll take over," she traded places with Constance.

"You don' mind?" Constance was hesitant to leave the room.

"Go," Queen Anne quietly urged and watched Constance slip past the door, quietly closing it behind her. Gliding her fingertips gently over d'Artagnan's brow, she was pleased to feel that the boy's fever had gone down. "You must get well, my young gallant." Even though Queen Anne kept her voice low, Athos began to restlessly stir.

He hadn't expected to fall asleep so fast but Athos guessed he was more tired than he thought. Sitting up he glanced down at d'Artagnan's sleeping form and was pleased the lad's face no longer bore the flush of fever. Hearing someone clearing their throat his gaze shifted, and Athos nearly fell off the bed in shock when he saw Her Majesty sitting nice as pie where he had last seen Constance. "We've been greatly remiss in your safety," he slid off the bed. "My profuse apologies."

Once more she found herself holding up her hand to stave off further words. "None are needed, Athos," she continued stroking the boy's brow. "It gave me time to think." Looking into Athos' curious eyes, Queen Anne grinned. "I can't go back to the palace empty handed."

He was still half asleep apparently for Athos didn't understand what the queen had meant. "I must admit to not knowing what you speak of."

"I told Louis that I was going to bring back several exquisite gowns," Queen Anne studied the older Musketeer and noted when he got the message as a smirk formed about his lips.

"Was there ever a famous designer here in Amiens to begin with?" he thought she had made it up as part of her ruse to meet up with Buckingham.

"Oui, there is," her eyes twinkled, "not as good as I made out to Louis, but he'll never notice the difference. As long as I present a pretty enough picture at my husband's functions he's well pleased."

"I thought the king always liked to make a fashion statement," Athos' lips quirked upward.

"You are correct, Athos," Queen Anne grinned. "But between myself, you and the wall, my husband lacks the knowledge of what went in this year and out last unless I pointed it out to him."

"I will keep your secret," Athos' eyes darkened as they strayed to the young Gascon.

"Athos," she said softly, "d'Artagnan will be well."

"From your mouth to God's ear," Aramis spoke up, awakened from his sleep by their conversation.

"Oy!" Porthos groaned, sitting up and stretching his body. "Ain't a way ta sleep in a bed." Hearing feminine laughter beside him he had expected to see Constance. Instead Porthos was astonished to discover that it was the queen's. Immediately he crawled off the bed to bow before her.

"Relax, Porthos," Queen Anne chuckled, seeing how uncomfortable the large Musketeer had become upon seeing her sitting here. "I wanted to check on d'Artagnan for myself. You all looked so comfortable I didn't have the heart to wake any of you, so I traded places with Constance and sent her back to our room."

" _Comfortable_ ," Porthos repeated irritably, pressing a hand to the small of his back, "I've felt better sleepin' on the floor."

Muffled laughter greeted d'Artagnan's ears. Turning his head to the side and slowly opening his eyes he thought at first he was dreaming. Why would the queen be sitting beside his bed and why did his leg ache so? Oh yeah, d'Artagnan remembered now. The journey, the cathedral, Buckingham and then... Milady with her arrows. Guess she left a calling card in his leg.

"Eh," Porthos pointed to the whelp, "kid's finally awake."

"Had us all worried, lad," Aramis observed d'Artagnan struggle to sit up and hid a smile when Athos placed a hand upon the boy's chest to push him back down upon the bed. Hearing the child huffing and trying to push his older brother's hand away, Aramis figured he'd better step in before war was declared. "Now, pup, you need to rest. That leg of yours isn't going to be weight bearing for quite awhile."

"Can't stay here that whole time," d'Artagnan snorted indignantly. "We have to get Queen Anne safely back to Paris."

"I still have need of several gowns to purchase as yet," Queen Anne told the youngster to calm him. "Constance and I will seek out a designer I'm familiar with here in the city," she stood up. "In the meantime that will give your leg a chance to start healing."

"When shall you want to go dress hunting, Your Majesty?" Aramis fiddled with d'Artagnan's bandages that had come loose as the boy fidgited beneath his fingers.

"Tomorrow will be soon enough," she replied. "Then we all can set our sights toward Paris."


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again... Happy Easter!
> 
> See note at bottom.
> 
> ++++

_Next day, still in Amiens_

Having spent the entire afternoon at the business of Monsieur Bonheur, Queen Anne had purchased several gowns. The dress designer fitted her himself instead of letting his staff take care of Her Majesty. He felt honored that the queen had thought him worthy enough to have sought him out. Little did Bonheur know he had only been a small cog in the queen’s bigger wheel of plans.

When he was satisfied with his work, Bonheur had Queen Anne re-try the two dresses on again, making sure they fitted her figure perfectly. Then having seen to that, he carefully ordered the items packed up so they could be ready to travel with Her Majesty.

The gowns now in the care of Athos and Porthos, they saw to helping Artur secure them to the top of the carriage. Aramis wasn’t part of their royal guard as he had stayed behind at the hotel to monitor d'Artagnan's condition.

Helping the women back into the carriage, Athos noted the pleased look on the queen's face. "Was everything to your satisfaction?"

Sharing an amused look with Constance, Queen Anne’s lips twitched, her eyes danced merrily. "They're pretty enough but not quite the quality gowns I described to Louis." Patting Constance's hand, she smiled at the younger woman. "Louis will have to wait awhile longer before seeing them however."

Quirking a brow in question Athos tilted his head, studying Constance's blushing face.

"You're going to drop me off first, Athos," Constance gave the elder Musketeer an engaging grin. "For you'll have to take the gowns into my home where I will work a little magic on them."

Shoulders shaking, Porthos thought it hilarious the extent Queen Anne's subterfuge was taking and how far she had gone thus far into hoodwinking King Louis.

"By the time His Majesty lays eyes on them they will look exquisite," Constance winked at both men. "Even if I do say so myself."

"I've told Constance time and again that if she were not my exclusive seamstress I would set her up with her own shop."

"As it is I'm very happy that you picked me to do you justice only, My Lady," Constance humbly said. "Jacques has the rest of our business well in hand so that I can devote most of my time to serving you gladly."

Seeing how Queen Anne had plotted her remaining course and was set to follow through with it, there wasn't much more for Athos to do. He signaled to Artur with a wave of his hand, the latter got back up on his perch to take up the team's reins. "Let us be off," Athos glance slid to Porthos. "The sooner we gather up d'Artagnan and Aramis the sooner Paris greets us."

++++

_Five days later - the Louvre_

Having arrived back in Paris, after having spent several nights at the same inns they had frequented on their trip to Amiens, Queen Anne had seen Constance safely delivered home along with her purchases. Now walking into the Louvre she was greeted enthusiastically by Louis, with the cardinal hovering somewhere behind her husband's shoulder like a dark wraith.

"Bonjour, ma cherie d'amour," Louis quickly approached her to take Anne into his arms. Soundly kissing the breath out of her, he watched Anne's face flush.

This open display of affection astounded Anne as she shot Richelieu a keen look. Could it be that the cardinal had discovered her secret tryst with George? Somehow Anne doubted it. But perhaps His Eminence worried that she was growing angry with Louis parading his mistresses in front of her, not caring that it hurt Anne's pride. Perhaps the cardinal thought that she would indeed start looking elsewhere for her own happiness. That would explain away her husband's actions completely. Richelieu probably whispered in Louis' ear that he needed to pay his wife more attention than he's had thus far.

"Did you find your journey fruitful, mon amour?" Louis took her arm and guided them both into his private den.

"Very, Louis," Anne gave his arm a light squeeze.

"Good, good," Louis nodded, glancing every so often Armand's way.

Like he was seeking the cardinal's approval, Anne thought not missing the exchange between the two men.

"When do I get to see what you have acquired?" Louis waited until Anne was seated before doing so himself. Then he ordered wine for them both.

"Constance is seeing to a few things first and will have them brought to the palace in a few days."

Slapping the palms of his hands on top of his knees, Louis started to open his mouth to make a comment and then absolutely froze. He noted Armand giving him a most glacial stare and he swallowed hard. Louis found himself floundering, actually at a loss as to how to hold a conversation with his own wife. Perhaps when the wine arrived it would loosen his tongue. Then again, Louis couldn’t trust what came out of his mouth when in his cups. So he promised himself only one glass of wine when it arrived.

Understanding panic when she saw it, Anne was suddenly overcome with pity for Louis. They had never been a love match, far from it. Betrothed since childhood to each other, they were more like siblings in their affections for one another. "Why do you not tell me of what I have missed since I've been away?" There, Anne could see a great relief cross Louis’ face. Tis a safer topic than any she could think upon.

Letting out the breath he had been holding, Louis was grateful for Anne's sensitivity. Relaxing he began to tell her of their chef's latest misfortune in the kitchen.

++++

_Nearly a month later_

The inseparables had been working d'Artagnan harder than they ever had. They wanted to make sure their pup's injury didn't leave him with any long-term damage. As d'Artagnan did a near acrobatic dance away from Athos' blade, it was determined that the whelp was back into play once again.

Throwing himself bonelessly onto the bench, d'Artagnan snatched an apple right out of Aramis' hands and took a big bite out of it. "Told you I was fine," he spoke with a mouthful, the apple's juices dribbling down his chin. It was Porthos who threw a napkin at d'Artagnan who in turn deftly caught it and began dabbing at his mouth.

"We still had to see for ourselves," Athos commented dryly. Observing the boy's thieving right before his eyes, he tried to keep a straight face. Then some mischievous imp got into him as well, making Athos do the same thing to Aramis when the marksman grabbed for another apple from the bowl.

"Now see here," Aramis' gaze flickered between their youngest and the oldest amongst them, "a man could starve around you two." Feeling the weight of Porthos' heavy hand on his back rubbing it up and down soothingly, Aramis stabbed him with an irritable look. "And you did nothing to stop either of them, mon ami," he pouted.

"I didn't want ta spoil their fun," Porthos laughed full out at his handsome brother trying to win them over with that sad face. It wasn't working on any of them.

"Wonder what Cyclop's is doing here." D'Artagnan's dark eyes followed the cardinal's man closely, watching Rochefort cross the courtyard to take the steps up leading to Captain Treville's office.

" _Cyclops!_ " Porthos bellowed, reaching for his rapier and main gauche. "Where? Where is the bloody bastard?" When he heard nothing but sounds of his three brothers overcome with mirth, Porthos turned on them. "Since when is Cyclops somethin' ta laugh about?"

"The pup meant _Rochefort_ ," Aramis’ lips curled up in an amused smile, noting the fierce scowl his brother now sported.

"Merde!" Porthos put down his weapons. "Kid ya nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Apologies," d'Artagnan was still laughing until Athos nudged his shoulder.

"I'd love to be a fly on the wall in the captain's office," Aramis mused. "Perhaps the man has finally had a change of heart and decided to join the Musketeers after all."

"I'd quit ifin’ that were true," Porthos spat on the ground.

"I too believe I'd follow Porthos' example," Athos' gaze was cool as it fell on Aramis' teasing grin.

"Perhaps tis something we will no doubt hear about later," d'Artagnan offered, polishing off his apple.

"Want ta try hand ta hand, whelp?" Porthos hovered over the lad, ready to see how healed d'Artagnan's leg truly was.

"Can't wait," d'Artagnan bounced up from the bench so fast that it vibrated causing his brothers to shake their heads ruefully. Walking beside Porthos to the center of the courtyard, d’Artagnan reached out to pat the man’s bearded face gently. "Trust me when I say I’ll feel badly besting you today," he remarked cheekily.

"Oy!" Porthos barked. "Whelp's gettin' a might big for ‘is britches I think."

Kissing his fingertips at them, Aramis sent their leader a quick wink. Then he and Athos settled back to enjoy the show.

++++

_Captain Treville's office_

"I've told you over and over again, Rochefort," Treville ran a hand down the back of his neck, feeling one of many headaches coming on, "I don't know where you've gotten this ridiculous idea from but the queen only went to purchase some gowns."

"So you've told me," Rochefort's bored tone implied that he doubted the captain was being at all truthful with him. "Why were your men seen at the Cathedral Basilica of Our Lady of Amiens?"

This brought Treville up short, eyes narrowing on the calculated look in Comte Rochefort's icy blue eyes. Knowing the full story from his men, Treville figured this was another of Rochefort's _fishing_ expeditions being played out. Even though d'Artagnan was at first the only one privy to know what truly was going on with the queen, Treville knew which way the wind blew... and it blew toward Buckingham. He protected the queen as best he could, even if that meant turning a blind eye to Her Majesty's private passions. But now his inseparables have been dragged into this unholy mess. Treville silently damned Louis for not being the husband to Queen Anne as he should have been. Perhaps then none of this would be happening.

"I would imagine they were the same men who escorted Her Majesty to Amiens in the first place… wouldn't you agree? Because the timing is just too coincidental,” Rochefort waited to hear what the captain would say to that.

He couldn't lie his way out of the obvious so Treville admitted to Rochefort the truth up to a point. "Oui, they were." Stabbing a finger into the air he snarled. "Is there a law preventing Musketeers from visiting a church nowadays?" He folded his arms, enjoying the smirk fall away from Rochefort's lips.

"Non," Rochefort forced out. "But if they were all at the basilica where was the queen?"

"P _raying!_ " Treville shouted, clearly losing his patience with the man. "What else would she be doing in a church, you idiot!"

Not expecting such a derogatory remark, Rochefort was taken aback by the captain's verbal attack.

"She had expressed a wish to visit the cathedral while in Amiens and didn't want to pass up the opportunity to see the basilica," Treville explained further. Really Rochefort was an insufferable oaf.

Thinking to use this opportunity to entrap the captain with the man’s own words, Rochefort hummed, "I see. Then they were simply her escort there."

Not understanding what Rochefort needed confirmed Treville let that one slide, instead he had a question of his own. "If you're trying to imply something then spit it out! If not, I have other matters to contend with."

He wanted to pursue this further but had enough suspicions to go on with for now. So with a curt nod, Rochefort left the captain’s office. When he reached the bottom of the steps, sounds of cheering greeted his ears. Turning his head toward the ruckus, Rochefort spotted the boy known as d'Artagnan sparring with another Musketeer. Judging by the man's size that must be the one they called Porthos. Both men were rolling on the ground surrounded by a group of other Musketeers who were looking on with obvious enjoyment.

Bored, Rochefort sought to amuse himself with a little bit of light entertainment. Summoning up a Harpy, he watched with delight as it headed straight for d'Artagnan.

++++

Standing up, d'Artagnan began to dust himself off watching Porthos, wearing a satisfied victory smile, head over to get some water to cool off. One of these days he'd beat Porthos at his own game but d'Artagnan guessed today was not supposed to be that day.

Catching a glimpse of some type of disturbance in the sky, at first Athos thought he was seeing things and put a hand up to shield his eyes to blot out the sun so he could see better. "Mon Dieu!" Athos cried out at what he saw flying toward d'Artagnan. That was when other Musketeers, still milling about, noticed the same thing and began to scatter to the four winds.

"Merde!" Aramis swore, dropping his mug of coffee to the ground in shock. He needed to reach the pup to keep him out of harm's way. Trying his best, Aramis pushed past the crush his other brothers had created as they ran in the opposite direction of the winged beast

Neither man thought they'd reach the boy in time. " _D'ARTAGNAN!_ " both men yelled out to their youngest, fear etched on their faces.

Hearing the urgency in the twin voices calling out to him, d'Artagnan wondered what had happened. When he turned around to see what his friends needed of him, d'Artagnan was able to duck just in time to avoid sharp claws of a winged Harpy that dove at him.

Defenceless he tried to outrun her. D'Artagnan ran clear across the courtyard, jumping over horse troughs as he went along, soon finding himself in the back of the canteen where the brick walls were covered with thick thorny vines that grew along the building. This d'Artagnan could use to his advantage especially when he saw the Harpy closing in on him again.

Concentrating on the twisting vines, d'Artagnan reached out to touch them. Shimmering, they pulled out and away from the wall. Undulating in the wind they targeted the enraged bird-like creature, ensnaring it in a thorny trap.

Hearing the Harpy's furious screeches, d'Artagnan knew there wasn't much time left while he watched the vines bring the Harpy close to ground level. Summoning his golden blade, d'Artagnan swung his scythe at the beast's chest.

When the inseparables were able to locate their youngest it was to see the Harpy laying dead at the boy's feet.

Kicking out at it with his boot, Porthos growled. "Can't have it lying about like so much garbage."

"I agree," Aramis pursed his lips and waved his arms out. "It detracts from the beauty of the courtyard."

Lips twitching, d'Artagnan rolled his eyes feeling he was being ignored on purpose. "Guys," he waved his hand. "See... me... here... alive... helloooo," he huffed.

"We do see you, mon petit frere," Aramis ruffled the lad's hair, enjoying it when d'Artagnan batted his hand away.

"Still, you have to agree, pup," Athos' blue eyes shone with pride at the lad. D'Artagnan defeated that creature all on his own with no help from any of them, "we just can't leave this debris here for anyone to stumble over."

"Since we're in the back of the canteen," Porthos snorted, "it'd more than likely be Serge takin' a tumble over the Harpy's ugly hide."

"Let's not tarry any longer over it. I have better things to do with my time." Nudging Porthos in the ribs, Aramis waited for his brother to take care of the matter. That's when he observed Porthos pull out his bronze rapier to turn the Harpy into a dust cloud. "See, all gone now," Aramis clapped his hands together. "Much better."

"Did it seem ta all of you like that thing was only after d'Art?" Porthos frowned, deep in thought, when he remembered noting Rochefort's sly smile before departing the area.

"Zut!" Athos swore deeply, exchanging concerned looks with both Aramis and Porthos. It appeared they had all jumped to the same conclusion at the same time when they all said the one-eyed comte's name in tandem.

" _ROCHEFORT!_ "

++++

_Note:_

A _Harpy_ is a female monster in the form of a winged bird with a woman’s human face and has sharp claws.


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See notes at bottom.
> 
> ++++

_Next day, mid morning - patrolling the streets of Paris_

Having their suspicions on who brought down a Harpy on their youngest, the inseparables had informed Captain Treville. Now all three Musketeers were determined to keep a sharp eye out whenever Rochefort was in their vicinity or, in particular, d’Artagnan’s.

It seemed like every single time d’Artagnan turned around lately one of his brothers would be breathing down his neck. Feeling hemmed in, like a cornered animal, he suddenly stopped walking and felt Athos slam into his back.

Perturbed, d’Artagnan whirled around to give his mentor a piece of his mind and not only Athos but his other brothers as well. “I know what you’re trying to do,” he poked a finger into Athos’ chest then his gaze swept over Aramis’ and Porthos’ guilty faces, “all of you,” d’Artagnan added. “You saw how I defeated that Harpy,” he huffed. “Do you not think me capable of defending myself?”

Placing a placating hand on the youth’s arm, Athos grimaced. “Tis not that, child,” he looked toward his silent brothers for help with what he needed to convey to d’Artagnan. Words were never quite his forte and therefore he, for the most part, let Aramis’ glib tongue speak for them. For once it appeared that today the marksman’s skill wasn’t coming into play as Athos noted Aramis standing silently by.

“First there was my wife’s attack on you back in Amiens and now it would appear Rochefort's getting into the act,” Athos briefly looked up at the sky for perhaps divine help with what he wanted to say to the Gascon without d’Artagnan feeling slighted. “We fear that should they join forces," Athos paused for a second, "you could be quickly overcome if they summoned up multiple creatures to combat you.”

“Yeah,” Porthos growled. “Ifin’ we’re not around that’d be hard for ya ta fight on your own,” he leaned against Aramis’ shoulder. “Even all of us tagether would be hard pressed ta win against those odds.”

Understanding dawned within him and d’Artagnan gave each of them a fond smile in turn. Having been informed on the trip back to Paris about who his _Milady_ truly was and what she had previously been to Athos, d’Artagnan had told himself he’d be extra careful if there was ever another encounter with the huntress. As for Rochefort, he would cross that bridge when next he came to it.

“It would help ifin’ we could find out who your wife was workin’ for,” Porthos slid a sideways look at Athos, the latter not having had time yet to talk to the captain about who Milady’s boss could possibly be. It was bad enough that his older brother had to inform their commander what had nearly transpired back at the basilica. Touching only upon the fact that the huntress had turned out to be Athos’ supposedly deceased wife.

“Guys,” d’Artagnan held up his hand. “tis pretty obvious who Milady works for.”

Athos appeared startled at first hearing his wife being called by that name, though d’Artagnan had told them tis what Anne wanted to be referred to.

“Cardinal Richelieu of course,” d’Artagnan said offhand. “Who else would want or need Buckingham dead?” He waited a few seconds to make sure his words had sunk in and was rewarded with three pairs of curious eyes blinking at him.

“Whelp’s got a point,” Porthos agreed with avid interest.

“Apparently I’m getting too old for all this subterfuge when even I didn’t think upon that outcome,” Athos rubbed his brow.

“When did you figure it out?” Aramis, with hands on his hips, observed the smirk growing ever large on their Gascon.

“I had lots of time to think upon it during my convalescence and then had them confirmed when I followed Milady one eve,” d’Artagnan grinned at the shocked looks he received from his admission.

“You trailed after that woman,” Athos nearly roared, “all by yourself?”

“Uh,” d’Artagnan was a trifle uncomfortable admitting that part, but he wouldn’t lie to his brothers. “Constance and Jacques insisted that they too come along with me or they’d have padlocked the door to my room preventing me from leaving the house."

Now it was the inseparable’s turn to smirk back at their pup.

“Anyway, Milady went straight to the Palace-Cardinal and came back out about a half an hour or more later,” d’Artagnan looked at Athos then. “I held back from saying anything to you three at first because I needed to talk this over with Captain Treville.”

“Ya mean he knows?” Porthos’ brows drew close together.

“The captain’s also the reason I said nothing to any of you,” d’Artagnan’s lips tightened together. “He felt that Milady’s inclined in my direction and thinks I could build upon it.”

“Like hell you will!” Athos blurted out, not caring how it sounded to the boy. But Athos felt badly that he scared d’Artagnan into jumping away from him by several feet.

“See, this is why I kept silent knowing how you would react,” d’Artagnan was exasperated. “I’m twenty one years of age,” he cocked his head to the side, “do you not think I know my way around a woman by now?”

Throwing an arm across the youth’s shoulders, Aramis hugged the lad to his side. “There speaks the wisdom of a farmboy from Gascony.”

Pushing himself away from his older brother, d’Artagnan pouted. “Make fun of me all you like, Aramis, but it will be Captain Treville you’ll have to face if you prevent me from doing my duty.”

“Why are we even arguin’ over this?” Porthos snapped. “So what if Richelieu wanted Buckingham killed off? No skin off our noses.”

“Oui,” d’Artagnan agreed. “But Captain Treville’s informed me that Rochefort’s prior visit to him worried the captain enough to warrant my seeking Milady out on my own.”

"Treville's concerned that the cardinal will put two and two together about the queen and Buckingham being at that cathedral at the same time," Athos surmised as he took in the troubled looks Aramis and Porthos sent him.

"That's about the size of it," d'Artagnan agreed with a slight shrug of slim shoulders. Holding up his hand he stabbed Athos with an irritated look. "Before you say it, I already have first hand knowledge of how deadly your wife can be."

"How do you propose to get close to her after Anne nearly killed you with that arrow?" Athos shook his head, thinking upon the many ways this could blow up in their young Gascon's face.

"She didn't want to hurt me and said as much," d'Artagnan offered, much to the surprise of Athos from what he could tell. "But I insisted on preventing her from gaining access to her prey forcing Milady's hand."

"Yeah but we're all guessin' she was after the duke," Porthos scratched his beard. "Coulda been Milady was goin' for the queen instead."

"Good point, mon ami," Aramis noted the disbelief clearly written on d'Artagnan's and Athos' faces.

"A thought that never crossed my mind," d'Artagnan freely admitted. "But I somehow doubt Queen Anne was Milady's victim," he sighed. "Bien, at least if the cardinal found out Her Majesty was in the basilica it would explain away who we were protecting at least," he grinned, "giving us all an out as it were."

Nodding his head Athos silently agreed.

"Right," Porthos grunted. "Clears all of us of havin' any knowledge of Buckingham's presence there."

"I still don't like this plan of Treville's using you in this manner," Athos murmured, his troubled gaze never leaving the Gascon. Fear for the lad grew in him for Athos alone knew what his wife was capable of.

"Mes freres," d'Artagnan pointed toward where a fight was currently taking place in front of a tavern, "let us take care of Musketeer business and think upon our other problems later."

++++

_Late afternoon - Separate building in the garrison used for training_

Having hashed things out with his brothers once again, d'Artagnan was informed by Aramis that he, along with Porthos, were taking part in a tennis match later in the day. So d'Artagnan decided that since he too would be off duty by then it would be fun to root them on. He tried to get Athos to join him, but the older man was not in the mood for games of any type now that he had discovered his wife yet lived to haunt him.

While d'Artagnan watched his brothers play in the match, his attention was caught by a woman in the audience and not just any woman either. Working his way around to her, d'Artagnan settled himself in the seat next to the older woman.

"Fancy meeting you here," Milady looked the boy up and down. "I see you survived," her green eyes gleamed.

"You didn't really mean to kill me did you?" d'Artagnan wondered how she would answer that. For although he told his brothers Milady hadn't wanted to hurt him at first, she still shot that arrow into his leg anyway.

"I had hoped you wouldn't perish from your wound but I wasn't certain," Milady replied softly, turning her head slightly away from the boy. Her attention was focused back on the tennis match when she noted the large, dark-skinned man glaring furiously at his opponent. Laughing, Milady glanced back at her companion. "The big one appears ready to crush some heads together."

He wasn’t sure if Milady had encountered Aramis and Porthos when she had been in the church but figured there was no sense in lying for Milady would no doubt see him and his brothers together at some point in the future. "That's Porthos and the handsome one on his left is Aramis," d'Artagnan grinned, "We work together in the same unit." He wasn't fool enough to bring up Athos' name yet for fear of aggravating her. Plus for now he didn’t want Milady to discover how very close d’Artagnan really was to all the inseparables, especially his own close relationship with Athos, and how much they meant to him. Tis better for her not to know as yet.

Watching Porthos fiercely bat the tennis ball with the palm of his hand toward his opponent, d'Artagnan was glad he was on the sidelines and not on the opposing team. Leaning in close to Milady he played innocent, asking her a question d'Artagnan already had the answer to. "Did you ever catch up to the person you were after back in Amiens?"

"Thanks to you and Athos," she snorted indelicately, "that man escaped me."

"So it was a _man_ you were after?" d'Artagnan was pleased to know that she hadn't been after the queen plus he was glad that Milady had brought up his mentor's name first.

Shaking her head, Milady looked at d'Artagnan's with amusement. "Oh how hilarious," her eyes danced. "You thought I was after Queen Anne."

"I didn't drop any names," d'Artagan hadn't been sure until now if Milady knew that the queen had been inside the basilica at the time. It seemed reasonable to assume that Rochefort had already informed Cardinal Richelieu what Captain Treville had told him. Obviously the cardinal would have then passed that information onto his agent. D'Artagnan had that confirmed by Milady's next words. 

"I was recently told by my patron that you Musketeers were guarding her while Queen Anne was on a shopping trip."

"Oui," d'Artagnan said. "Her Majesty wanted to stop to visit the cathedral since we were in the vicinity." Snickering to himself, d'Artagnan thought that perhaps he should tell Milady that he knew who her patron was.

Placing her hand on top of d'Artagnans, Milady leaned closer. "Rest assured, young man, that Queen Anne was not my intended target."

"You mentioned something about having a patron," d'Artagan waited to see if she would elaborate and divulge a name to him.

"Mmmmmm," she hummed, wearing a secret smile. "A very wealthy and extremely powerful one."

"This _patron_ of yours appears to want the Duke of Buckingham dead," d'Artagnan caught Milady staring at him with a calculating expression. "What?"

"You're not very good at this you know," she chuckled.

"Good at what?" d'Artagnan countered, thinking perhaps Aramis would have been better suited to do this as he was older and more in tuned with women than he.

"You wear your heart on your sleeve, d'Artagnan," Milady squeezed his hand that she still held. "I do hope you never play cards with anyone who would fleece you blind for you couldn't carry a poker face if you tried."

So much for trying not to be obvious, d’Artagnan figured he may as well be blunt. "I'm interested in knowing if the Musketeers will be at cross purposes with your patron in protecting France?”

"As far as I know my patron does all he can to protect the country he loves." Studying the youngster, Milady placed a hand on d'Artagnan's face. "A word of advice," she purred. "If you are determined to stay with the Musketeers you'll eventually choose oblivion."

"What are you suggesting?" He wasn't quite sure if Milady was threatening him or trying to warn him.

"My patron could use a man like you," she smiled into the boy's dark eyes, "and so could I."

On one hand he had it confirmed that Milady's patron was a man and d'Artagnan knew it just had to be Richelieu. Everything added up to it. On the other hand, he began to sweat. She's Athos' wife and, unless he got his wires crossed, Milady was flirting with him. Well, this is what Captain Treville was hoping for so d'Artagnan could find out from her who Milady's mysterious patron was and what type of threat this person posed. "May I ask something of you?" Seeing her nod back at him, d'Artagnan hesitated because it did seem a stupid question but he was curious. "Do you have a name other than - _Milady_." Her tinkling laughter ran chills down his spine for more than one reason.

Standing up, Milady straightened out the creases that had settled in her dress. Touching one finger to the boy's lips she told him a partial truth. "I am widowed, having been married to Lord de Winter. Prior to that I have had many names. None of which you need to know." Beginning to walk past him, the crowd gave a loud cheer and Milady turned her head to see who was winning. With a smirk playing about her lips, she glanced at the boy. "You should keep your eye on the game for I fear your friends badly need your encouragement."

Watching her leave his side, d'Artagnan was disappointed that he couldn't get Milady to admit who indeed her patron was. Shaking his head at himself, d’Artagnan knew he was in for a great amount of teasing from his brothers when they found out Milady hadn’t been fooled at all by his questions. He only had his own suspicions to go by of the cardinal's involvement.

Knowing that Athos would worry over Milady's remarks concerning d'Artagnan remaining with the Musketeers, he thought to leave that part out when meeting up with his mentor later. A sudden loud roar from the crowd disturbed his thoughts, and since Milady departed d'Artagnan therefore decided to focus his attention back on the game and rally his brothers on to victory.

++++

_Mount Olympus_

"I am not happy at how this is being played out," Demeter looked over to where Artemis was seated eating from a plateful of plump grapes.

"We are not to interfere," Artemis shot the other woman a bored look. "You already warned the boy once."

"And I may do so again if d'Artagnan finds himself in peril," Demeter grew angry at the other goddess. "The child could have died from Milady's arrow."

"He didn't so let it go," Artemis held out a plate of fruit. "Eat and forget about the mortals."

"Are you not upset with Milady?" Demeter couldn't understand how Artemis could turn a blind eye on one of her own descendants.

"True, she is not behaving with honor and I should be acting accordingly but," Artemis glared at Demeter, "last time I interfered in the dealings of mortals Zeus took me to task over it. I vowed then and there never to do so again."

"Hmmmpf!" Demeter grunted. "If you won't help I will see what Athena has to say."

Watching the other woman walk away from her, Artemis shrugged and went back to eating her grapes.

++++

_Notes:_

I have conflicting sites where one says Tennis was played without rackets until late 17th century. Another said during the 16th century they used rackets. I decided to go with where they weren't using rackets yet. Original French name for the game was jeu de paume (palm game, the ball was struck with the palm of the hand). It is thought that the name - _Tennis_ was derived from the server's warning when about to serve the ball. They would cry out - _Tenez_ which meant _take heed_.


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See notes at bottom.
> 
> ++++

_Mount Olympus_

"I do not like the situation anymore than you do, Demeter." Athena stood beside the other goddess contemplating the serious nature of what Artemis' descendant had turned into. "It is for Artemis to take a hand in bringing Milady to heel so that this woman doesn't cause harm to either Charles or Olivier."

"Nor to anyone else," Demeter added. "But as I mentioned before, Artemis' attitude was quite dismissive of the entire problem. Plus we have the additional worry of how to handle Comte Rochefort as well."

"I'll have a talk with Perses about Rochefort and as for Artemis," Athena wore a wicked smile, "you and I will just have to change her mind."

"Oh I do so love when you get that look in your eyes," Demeter laughed, feeling more lighthearted than she had since discovering Milady's intentions. 

++++

_Same day, early evening - Athos' apartments_

Relaxing over an expensive vintage of Chambertin, Athos lazily eyed his companion. "So, d'Artagnan, have you made contact with Anne yet?" his sharp eyes didn't miss the show of discomfort on the young Gascon's olive-toned complexion.

"Oui," d'Artagnan sipped his wine, making it a point to remember not to tell his mentor of Milady's veiled warning or threat, he still wasn't sure which. "Is that why you unearthed your secret cache of Chambertin?" A insignificant shrug of one shoulder was all the answer d'Artagnan received from his mentor. "I tried my best but was woefully lacking in the arts of deception it would seem. Milady saw through my tactics without any trouble whatsoever."

"You still feel she's working for the cardinal?"

"I know it," d'Artagnan snorted into his drink. "Milady kept on about what a powerful patron she had and hinted that I should change sides as well." Seeing absolute fury covering Athos' features, d'Artagnan clamped his mouth shut tight for fear of upsetting his brother further.

Slamming his glass down Athos shot up from his chair and began pacing around the table, every so often making sure to touch the Gascon's shoulders when he passed by the boy. It was as if touching d'Artagnan grounded him in some way. Lord above only knew how he felt at this moment over his wife's return from the grave and how she was trying to integrate herself in the youngster's life.

"She dared to say that?" Athos was still quietly seething. Hanging his head down, he shook it slowly from side to side. "Truly, your Milady must be a minion of Richelieu's. Unless she's working for a syndicate we are not aware of. Somehow," he sighed, "I doubt that last part very much."

Getting slowly to his feet, d'Artagnan placed a calming hand on Athos' arm. "Trust me in that I can handle myself with her or the cardinal."

Slapping d'Artagnan on the back, Athos' blue eyes held nothing but pride and affection for the youth. "Forgive an old fool his concerns."

Gazing at the man who had been more of a father figure to him than a brother-in-arms, d'Artagnan smiled sweetly. "Tis nothing to forgive," he tried to peer into Athos' eyes that were half closed. "Plus, I do not think you all that old," d'Artagnan grinned. "Just a tad on the mother-hen side of things where I am concerned." He laughed at the mock outrage on his mentor's face and danced out of reach when Athos' hand shot out to ruffle his hair.

"Keep that up," Athos drew his hand back and waved a finger at the boy instead, "you will never hear the end of me calling you - _pup_."

Rolling his eyes, d'Artagnan dipped his head so that the older man wouldn't see the twinkle in his eyes. If he were truthful with himself, d'Artagnan actually enjoyed it when Athos and the others teasingly called him that. "I must take my leave of you now to report back to Captain Treville."

"By the way," Athos held the lad back by the arm, "when you left the match who was winning?" His sardonic gaze was not lost on the youngster as he noted d'Artagnan's lips twitching.

"I paid no attention to the score," d'Artagnan freely admitted, "as I had other concerns on my mind at the time. But as I departed I heard Porthos bellow out his frustrations quite vocally."

"Which usually means that he and Aramis were losing," Athos said. "Tis best I was not there to place my usual bet."

Knowing there was more behind Athos' words d'Artagnan waited, curiosity filling him.

Seeing that the Gascon wanted to know more, Athos smirked. "My brothers would be sorely upset with me for I would have bet against them."

"Athos!" d'Artagnan exclaimed in shock. "Why would you do such a thing? What happened to _All for One and One for All_?"

"An empty purse at nearly every match those two have been in is a prime example of why I do not follow our motto in regards to Aramis' and Porthos' poor attempt at playing the game." Athos laughed at the indignant look d'Artagnan still carried. Holding up his hand, Athos smiled. "Peace, child. Now go on with you. Tis not good form to keep Treville waiting." After the lad left Athos sat back down to refill his glass with more of the red burgundy, contemplating the future and what part Anne now played in it.

++++

_Palais-Cardinal_

"I heard you've been talking to d'Artagnan," Richelieu couldn't help the satisfaction he felt when Milady showed her annoyance with him.

"Tis a waste of good manpower to have your spies keeping track of your other agents," she sat back in her chair, trying to get comfortable. Though that was hard to do with Cerberus staring at her the way he was. If that beast turned into a three headed creature while she was still here, Milady would have no other recourse but to end its days. If there were consequences from His Eminence from her act, Milady would face it when the time came. 

"What came of your conversation?" Sitting behind his desk, Richelieu began putting pen to paper but he hung on her every word.

"It was amusing actually for d'Artagnan was trying to find out who I worked for."

Lifting a brow, without raising his head, Richelieu continued writing. "And did you tell him?"

"Of course not," she scoffed. "What type of fool do you take me for?" Seeing the cardinal pause in his writing, Milady quickly added, "Don't bother answering that. I more than likely wouldn't enjoy your answer."

"Did you try to win him over to working for us?"

"I may have mentioned something to the affect that should he continue working as a Musketeer his life could be forfeit," Milady smiled as His Eminence put down his pen to look at her with something like amusement in his cold eyes.

"I'm sure that went down well," Richelieu remarked dryly. "Not exactly a winning way to bring people over to my just cause."

"If you don't like the way I do things," Milady stood up, "perhaps you need to get another agent to do your dirty work." She walked behind the chair Milady had just vacated. "I hear Rochefort's up to his old tricks causing havoc at the garrison. Get him to approach the boy instead of trying to get d'Artagnan killed," she all but growled out her frustration at the cardinal.

Pushing aside his paperwork, Richelieu pursed his lips. "I had heard about some such disturbance but didn't get all the facts." He too stood up to walk around his desk. "What did Rochefort do?"

"I cannot believe you don't know," Milady snickered. Hearing Cerberus growling at her, she figured the beast took exception to her tone of voice toward Richelieu again. Tis been happening all too frequent of late and she tired of it. Fingering her tiny dagger in the pocket of her dress, Milady re-thought her earlier position about ending Cerberus' life. Wondering if it were indeed the wisest of courses to murder the foul creature before it decided to devour her for its dinner, Milady relaxed her grip on the dagger and withdrew her hand.

"I remember speaking with the king about something attacking the garrison but to be honest I let it go through one ear and out the other," Richelieu commented.

Holding back from making a witty remark to that, Milady appeared smug. "I wasn't there but it was told to me by one of my own operatives that Rochefort was seen coming from Treville's office. Then suddenly out of the blue a Harpy descended on poor d'Artagnan." Seeing a fire blazing in Richelieu's eyes, Milady felt no further need to embellish the incident. For once let Rochefort feel the taste of His Eminence' sharp tongue instead of her.

"Was the boy injured in any way?" he curtly asked, thinking he was long overdue for a talk with the comte. He couldn't have his agents working at cross purposes.

"Non," Milady replied. "From what I understood the lad somehow defeated the monster all by himself."

A satisfied smile crossed Richelieu's face. "Which is one of the reasons I want that boy on our side. He thinks on his feet."

"Do I have your leave to go now? Tis getting rather late." Plus Milady couldn't make any promises about not harming his delightful pet if she stayed any longer.

"Oui, oui," Richelieu said. "I have no more need of you at present." Observing her retreating back he added, "Just try to cultivate a friendship with d'Artagnan and see where it leads you."

Twisting her head around, Milady dipped her head in acknowledgment and continued on her way out the door. Her thoughts on things other than a friendship with the boy. She had earlier found out that Olivier no longer went by his title of Comte de la Fere. Apparently her husband cut ties to his former life long ago and went by the name of Athos nowadays. She had discovered a few things since having that run-in with him back in Amiens. That Olivier frequented the many taverns in Paris, drinking himself into oblivion until d'Artagnan appeared on the scene and changed things greatly. Still, pondering what Olivier was known by, Milady thought it silly of him to be named after a mountain. Walking down the long corridors on her way outside, she wondered how much Olivier had truly changed. She would make it her business to find out.

++++

_Next day, mid afternoon - Porthos' apartments_

"Porthos," d'Artagnan was at a loose end and decided to see where his missing brother had gone off too. Stepping inside the man's home, he could see why Porthos had missed muster early this morning and parade duty thereafter. His friend must have had a lively party, ending with Porthos in his cups as usual. Making matters worse was the state of his abode. That old phrase came to d'Artagnan's mind of _wine, women and song_. Which he gathered Porthos must have had in abundance last eve. Several of Porthos' friends hadn't left either, finding himself wary of two of them. While the Satyr and Satyress intently studied him, d'Artagnan feverishly tried to wake Porthos up from his stupor. Nothing he tried worked. While he was trying to figure out his next step, sounds of a musical instrument reached d'Artagnan's ears. Staring in disbelief he noted the Satyr was dancing around the room to a merry tune being played on pipes by the Satyress. Ignoring them and desperate into the bargain, d'Artagnan grabbed an empty basin quickly filling it with water and immediately dumped it over Porthos' head. 

Spluttering, Porthos growled, wiping his eyes to glare up at d'Artagnan. "What ya do that fer?"

With hands on his hips, d'Artagnan gazed at his brother ruefully. "You've missed muster and the captain's after your head for missing parade as well."

"Oy!" Grabbing his aching head in his hands, Porthos squinted up at the boy. "Had too much of a good thing."

"Apparently," acid dripped from d'Artagnan's tongue. "Tis a good thing I came to find you and not Athos."

"Yeah," Porthos grunted. "Right glad ya did that, d'Art."

"If you're so glad how about making them," d'Artagnan pointed over at the Satyress eating him up with her eyes, "disappear."

Getting the picture, Porthos waved his hand and the pair shimmered away.

Helping his larger brother stand up, d'Artagnan quickly grabbed Porthos as the man began to sway forward. "You better sober up quickly. You'll have to come up with a plausible excuse to satisfy the captain."

"Could say I was sick," Porthos said. "I've used it before."

"Whatever works," d'Artagnan muttered, helping the other man into the bedroom. "You'll be okay on your own?"

"Fine," Porthos bit out as pain spiked inside his skull. "My thanks," he scrubbed a hand through his tangled curls. "Catch ya later, d'Art."

Grumbling under his breath about older brothers that overindulge, d'Artagnan headed out the door.

++++

Seeing d'Artagnan running down the steps leading away from one of the apartments, Rochefort grinned slyly. Time for some more fun he thought. Snapping his fingers he summoned up another creature to bedevil the young Musketeer.

++++

Walking back to the garrison, d'Artagnan heard the sounds of snorting from behind him. Turning around, expecting to see a rider upon a horse, d'Artagnan was stunned to find himself facing a creature he had only ever heard about in stories handed down to him from his parents. Having the body of a buffalo and the head of a wild boar, d'Artagnan faced the Catoblepas as it charged him.

++++

_Note:_

_Chambertin_ was known as the King of Wines, a rich, red burgundy vintage.

_Satyrs and Satyresses_ are companions of Pan and Dionysus. They had human upper bodies with the horns and hindquarters of a goat. The Satyr was a lover of women and the Satyress was a lover of men. They enjoyed wine and were ready for every physical pleasure available to them. Also they liked to dance to music of pipes.

_Catoblepas_ \- a monster with the body of a buffalo and head of a wild boar.


	12. Chapter 11

_Same time, same place… d’Art in jeopardy again_

D’artagnan couldn’t believe what he was seeing or his damn luck that a Catoblepas would be chasing him. Though chase may have been a strong word as due to the beast’s overlarge head that it couldn’t lift up, its movements were sluggish but still the creature was heading straight for him.

Knowing that if he even looked into the Catoblepas’ eyes it could make him ill, d’Artagnan made sure not to make eye contact. But the troublesome part was that if the beast got close enough to breathe on him then he was truly in trouble for the creature’s breath was poisonous in the extreme, due to the poisonous vegetation the Catoblepas ate.

++++

_Garrison courtyard_

“Athos! Athos!” Rene cried out, falling to his knees so out of breath was he. Seeing the lieutenant call a halt to the lesson he was currently engaged in with several recruits, and walking his way, Rene tried to calm the helpless panic he felt.

When the other man gained his feet, Athos stared at him expectantly. “Tell me what has happened?”

“There’s a Catoblepas after d’Artagnan,” Rene blurted out, noting the color leech out of Athos’ face.

“Mon Dieu!” Athos quickly turned to his recruits and dismissed them. “Rene, are you certain?”

“Oui,” Rene gripped the other man’s forearm and held on tightly. “I was headed for the garrison when I heard a commotion. Turning around people were rushing past me. I stopped one of them to ask what was going on and that’s when they told me about the monster.”

“Why then did you not give d’Artagnan aid?” Athos spat, concern for their youngest upper most in his mind.

“I was closer to the garrison and came straight to you because I thought your aegis could be of better use than my sword.” Having Athos’ grim countenance staring him down, Rene began to wonder if he had made the right decision.

Eyes narrowing, Athos realized Rene had a valid point. Waving the Musketeer away, he sprinted past the garrison gates. While running, Athos summoned his aegis. He knew what he wanted to do and prayed the beast hadn’t breathed its poisonous breath yet upon the boy by the time he got to d’Artagnan.

++++

Yelling out to citizens to get out of the creature’s way, d’Artagnan managed to trip over a petit garcon that had fallen to the ground in fright. Covering the child with his own body, d’Artagnan knew his time had run out as he could hear the Catoblepas’ labored breathing getting closer.

Just when d’Artagnan thought the worst was about to befall him, a loud cry rang out and he nearly wept in relief when he recognized the voice of his mentor.

Wanting to distract the beast, Athos roared his fury while trying to get to his protégé’s side. But there were so many people in his road, trying to run away from the monster, that Athos felt as if he were running in slow motion. Still not as close as Athos would like, and realizing he was not going to reach d’Artagnan in time as the Catoblepas was nearly on top of his pup, Athos gripped his aegis firmly and with a mighty throw of his arm he threw his shield.

Watching his aegis hurtle toward his youngest, Athos saw his shield come to rest on top of d'Artganan's back. It now was the only protection between his protégé and the creature. Knowing that his aegis of polished bronze was sometimes referred too as a _mirror_ because it reflected easily like one, Athos had prayed the beast would look into it since the weight of the Catoblepas' head made it hang so low.

Nearly collapsing in relief upon seeing the Catoblepas fall to its knees and keel over from the monster's eyes being reflected back at it from his aegis, Athos ran over to where d'Artagnan still protected the petit garcon in his arms. Knowing that the beast had been made ill, this gave Athos the opportunity to slay it before the creature could kill anyone with its breath. Pulling out his golden blade from its sheath, Athos had to strike out at the Catoblepas' underbelly since its back was protected by scales. The monster, already weakened, barely made a sound when it perished almost immediately from Athos' killing blow.

Placing a hand on top of d'Artagnan's head, Athos could feel the fine tremors running through the lad. "Tis safe now." He waited until the younger man released the child d'Artagnan had been protecting and smiled as the petit garcon ran to the welcoming arms of his frantic mother.

Helping d'Artagnan stand back up on shaky limbs, Athos pursed his lips. "What is it with you lately having these creatures attacking you?" He didn't wait for the boy's response. "First there was Cacus, then the Harpy and now a Catoblepas," Athos frowned. "My worries grow on what will sprout up next."

"Rochefort must be hiding out around here somewhere," d'Artagnan huffed. "You and the others already told me you thought him the one summoning these beasts to torment me."

Giving the lad's right arm an affectionate squeeze, Athos began to lead d'Artagnan away toward Porthos' apartments that were closer than Athos' own. But when the pup dug in his heels and refused to move, Athos nearly lost his temper. "I want to take a look at you to make sure you're not hurt."

"I'm fine," d'Artagnan snapped. Not wanting Athos to find out the state he had left Porthos in.

He wasn't stupid and knew the youngster was stalling. "I'm not going to like what I discover at Porthos' is that it?" Not getting any response from d'Artagnan, Athos' blue eyes grew stormy. "Which goes a long way in explaining why Porthos didn't come out to see what was going on since we are not that far away from his place."

"Athos," d'Artagnan tugged on the older man's doublet, "I'm fine. Let's go back to the garrison."

Eyeing his protégé curiously, Athos nodded to himself. "Tis not the first time Porthos had been in his cups. But tis not an excuse to miss muster and parade duty," he held up his hand. "On top of that you could have been seriously injured or killed and Porthos couldn't be bothered to lend you aid."

"Porthos..." d'Artagnan got no further seeing his mentor grow weary of his excuses for his brother.

"Was drowning his sorrows over losing the tennis match," Athos snapped. "He's done it before but always managed to do his duty," he sighed. "I can see you do not want a confrontation to take place and so I will let it be for the moment."

"My thanks," d'Artagnan gave the other man a shy smile.

"If you are positive you are not hurt," Athos said with a roll of his eyes, "then you and I are due to cross swords. There's a new technique I want to teach you." Eagerness filled the Gascon's eyes, making Athos' lips curl into a small smile. The pup couldn't wait to soak up anything that would make him a better Musketeer. He would have words later with Treville over Rochefort's activities and how they could possibly get Cardinal Richelieu to reprimand his own man.

++++

_Mount Olympus_

"Honestly," Artemis was angry, "I cannot believe both of you went behind my back to complain to Zeus," she threw her hands up in the air.

"It was the only way we thought to get through to you about handling Milady," Athena snapped. "That woman is dangerous and growing more so by the hour. Not only to Charles but now that's she has discovered Olivier is a Musketeer I fear for him as well."

"You need to change her course," Demeter pointed out.

"Even if I did you are still left with Comte Rochefort," Artemis reminded them. "I feel he's a worse threat to Charles than Milady is."

"I have yet to seek Perses out to have a talk with him about the comte," Athena said. "I wanted you to take care of the problem of Milady first."

"Oh very well," Artemis resigned herself to having a conversation with Milady, whether she wanted to or not. "Next time something like this happens do not bother Zeus with it. I swear he was so irritated with me that I was afraid he would throw a lightning bolt my way." Hearing the laughter of the other two goddesses did not make Artemis feel any better.

++++

_Outskirts of Paris_

Loving the freedom it gave her when Milady had the opportunity to ride her horse, she always went to the same spot. A small lake nearly hidden from view that was only a few miles out of Paris.

Sitting near the lake's edge, Milady dipped her hand in the cool water watching it ripple. Then when she noticed the ripples begin to grow bigger Milady saw the upper part of a woman's body reflected in the water, stunning her speechless.

"Oh don't look like that," Artemis sounded bored. "I am the goddess Artemis and you're creating something of a situation up here in Olympus for me."

Still not finding her voice, Milady could only continue to listen to the goddess' words.

"You have to change your path," Artemis said. "Following Cardinal Richelieu will only bring misery down upon those who would protect France."

Swallowing hard, Milady felt her vocal chords would obey her now. "His Eminence _does_ protect France."

"By foul means," Artemis waved her hand airily. "You need to help the Musketeers not hinder them. Especially whatever you have planned for young Charles. I would suggest another course of action instead."

"You expect me to listen to you and go against the cardinal?" Milady didn't know what to think of all of this. "It could mean my life."

"Your _life,_ " Artemis scoffed. "You're affecting _my_ life and giving me a bad name up here into the bargain," she winced. "And while I think on it, making up with Olivier wouldn't hurt you either."

"This is too much," Milady shook her head. "Do you honestly believe I am going to listen to you?"

"If you do not I could strip you of any abilities you possess," Artemis was all business and getting fed up with Milady's stubborness. "Take this as your only warning," she yawned. "Talking to you mortals is a tiring business," Artemis covered her mouth as another yawn slipped out. "I hope you heed my words. Now I'm off to bed."

The water began to ripple on its own and the face of Artemis disappeared from view.

Muttering to herself, Milady got back up and went over to her horse. Once seated, she headed back toward the city. Her thoughts were confused as to what action to take. All Milady did know was if she went against the cardinal her life wouldn't be worth living.

++++

_Palais-Cardinal_

Placing the letter face down on his desk Richelieu stared up into the face of one of his men. "Is this the entire report, Captain de Ruffec?"

"Oui, My Lord."

"Then you may leave me," Richelieu waited until the officer left and took up the letter once more to read it. "Mmmmm, so Queen Anne it looks like you've indeed been meeting with the Duke of Buckingham behind the king's back." Opening a desk drawer he tucked the missive inside and twisted the key to lock it.

Getting up, Richelieu went to stand in front of a large glass window. Staring out at the landscape that surrounded the grounds for several minutes, he then turned and walked away. Pacing his room his thoughts were dark. "Perhaps tis time for His Majesty to have a new queen by his side."

Hearing his door open and close quietly, Richelieu whirled around to encounter another of his agents silently standing there. "Do wipe that arrogant smirk off of your face," he snapped and was pleased to see Rochefort do so immediately. "Have you enjoyed your fun and games of late?" He hadn't been amused when Treville had marched into his office earlier today demanding Richelieu call a halt to the comte's actions in regard to d'Artagnan.

"I don't know to what you refer, Your Eminence."

"In a pig's eye you don't know what I'm talking about!" Richelieu raised his voice making the younger man jump. "Let me remind you that whatever you do reflects upon me!"

"My Lord, I have done nothing wrong," Rochefort defended himself.

"Summoning up monsters to tear d'Artagnan apart is _nothing_ to you?" Richelieu's left eye began to twitch. "Need I remind you that I'm trying to get that young man to work for me?"

Giving up the game, Rochefort simply shrugged. "No harm was done. Twas only in fun," he grinned. "I knew what the boy was capable of and that he'd defeat my creatures."

"Well today's antics put a petit garcon in harm's way as well as many Parisians," Richelieu shouted. "I won't stand for anymore of this childish nonsense! Do you hear me!"

With a finger in his ear, Rochefort grimaced. "Loud and quite clear, cardinal," he replied dryly.

"Now get out of my sight before I set Cerberus on you," Richelieu enjoyed seeing Rochefort lose color as the other man turned a wary eye upon the dog. After the comte's hasty retreat, Richelieu began to make plans.


	13. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue in this chapter maybe familiar to you since it came from Knight Takes Queen.  
> Also I don't know if any of you had noticed but in my story the mortal descendants that are bad can summon up monsters. But the good ones can't. Just thought I'd clear that up in case anybody was curious.
> 
> ++++

_Mount Olympus_

"I wasted my breath on Perses," Athena noticed Demeter frowned at that. "Well what else could you have expected from a Titan?"

"Nothing apparently," Demeter retorted dryly. "At least Artemis had warned Milady about the danger of losing her powers if she continued on the way she has been."

"Let us hope Milady took her words to heart," Athena smiled. "On the side of good, Milady would be an excellent ally for the Musketeers."

"I agree," Demeter took the other woman's hand. "Come now, I hear Dionysus is throwing a party and we're all invited."

"Another one?" Athena saw the imp of amusement crossing Demeter's face. "I haven't recovered from the last one."

"As long as those Satyrs keep their hands to themselves," Demeter muttered. "And don't even get me started on those pipes they play."

++++

_Late afternoon, garrison courtyard_

"Oh there's the man of the hour," Aramis chuckled watching Porthos drag his sorry ass inside the courtyard. "How's the head?"

"What 'ead?" Porthos grunted.

"Over indulged again, mon ami?" Aramis tilted his head to the side studying how rough Porthos appeared. The man's bloodshot eyes and the way he held himself told the marksman its own story. "I am going to warn you now that Athos is on the warpath and you're his target."

"Why me?" Porthos' head at least felt like it wouldn't explode, not like when d'Artagnan had visited him earlier.

"After leaving your humble abode, d'Artagnan was attacked by a Catoblepas." Dark-skinned though Porthos was, Aramis noted the man had paled to a sickly shade. "And before you ask, Athos came to the lad's rescue. In the meantime d'Artagnan was curled around a petit garcon and thanks to Athos' aegis, saved them both."

Falling limply down on the bench, Porthos placed his head in his hands. "I didn't 'ear a bloody thing!"

"Hence the _warpath_ I mentioned," Aramis refrained from saying anything further as he could see how miserable Porthos already was.

"Where's the kid now?" Porthos mumbled into his hands.

"D'Artagnan and Athos sparred awhile earlier and shortly after the captain needed to speak with Athos," Aramis placed a hand on Porthos' back, running it up and down. "That was the last I seen of him and I'm not quite sure where our youngest disappeared too."

"Time ta pay the piper I guess," Porthos lifted his head up and with grim determination headed for the captain's office.

++++

_Royal Palace_

"She's quite charming isn't she, Armand?" King Louis was entranced by Count Mellendorf's lovely daughter Charlotte.

"If you say so, Your Majesty," Richelieu moaned silently - _here we go again_.

"Why can't Anne be like that? So outgoing, delighting in outdoor pursuits," his voice trailed away. King Louis felt like he had gotten the short end of the stick in the wife department. "Anne barely tolerates my touch as it is."

"Queen Anne has many admirable qualities," Richelieu serenely offered.

"Giving birth isn't one of them," King Louis retorted angrily.

"A word of caution, Sire," Richelieu spoke softly. "It would help matters a great deal if you would perhaps pay more attention to your queen and less to installing mistresses in the palace."

"I'd die of boredom if I did that," King Louis downed his glass of wine in one gulp and threw the glass over his head to be caught by the nimble fingers of one of his pages. "Better off if Anne were dead and I'd be free to marry someone else. Someone like Charlotte Mellendorf," he stormed off leaving the cardinal flabbergasted at first.

Not seeing this coming, he had been taken aback but then a sly grin began to spread across Richelieu's face. With the king's own words still ringing in his ears, he watched His Majesty re-join the Mellendorfs in the Royal Gardens. Hearing it from the horse's mouth as it were, Richelieu could go ahead without a guilty conscience. Having an appointment shortly with Milady, Richelieu could rest assured that King Louis would have his wish granted.

++++

_Palais-Cardinal_

"You wanted to see me, Your Eminence," Milady didn't have any witty remarks up her sleeve. She was still thinking upon the words of Artemis while she fingered her choker.

"You are familiar with the exiled Catholic chieftain Hugh O'Neill?" Richelieu hastily scribbled a note on a piece of paper.

"I've heard of the man but know little more than rumors about him."

"He leads his men in the same manner that Treville handles the Musketeers," Richelieu glanced up at her.

"What does he have to do with why I am here?" Milady was beginning to have a very bad feeling.

"Queen Anne will be due to leave shortly on the morrow to take up the waters," he handed Milady the missive. "I want you to deliver that to O'Neill in the meantime."

"Where do I find him?" she cautiously asked.

"The Wren of course," Richelieu snorted. "Tis where all former chieftains end up I hear."

Staring at the letter in her hand, Milady decided to ask the obvious. "I assume this," she waved the piece of paper in the air, "is O'Neill's orders to murder someone."

So Richelieu took her into his confidence and told her everything that the king had said to him. "Finding out that Queen Anne had been truly seeing Buckingham all this time," he shrugged his shoulders, "let us say tis icing on the cake and leave it at that."

"But she is the queen," Milady was in shock, not believing the cardinal would order such a thing done. Secretly she admired the queen for having to put up with King Louis' bumbling attempts at acting like a husband and failing miserably. Also Queen Anne showed true courage in taking a chance on a forbidden love.

"Who can't give His Majesty the heir France needs," Richelieu spat. "A talk with the king earlier opened my eyes." Seeing the look of distaste crossing his agent's features, he barked out a harsh laugh. "Oh don't tell me you have qualms," he waved his hand in the air, "because in your line of work a conscience is no asset."

"An ordinary death does not concern me, but this is no ordinary death," Milady whispered.

"I am very much aware of that," Richelieu eyed her coldly. "Losing your taste for this type of work? What a pity," he stood up. " _Pity_ won't keep you warm at nights or fill you stomach."

She couldn't think upon a single thing to say to that. Milady simply bowed her head and left the cardinal's office. Even the presence of Cerberus had no affect on her. Closing the door quietly behind her, Milady thought that perhaps this was her turning point.

++++

_Early evening, Athos' apartments_

"Porthos you and I will have words about missing duty earlier today," Athos walked over to where d'Artagnan sat and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "The pup here doesn't want me to take you to task over it nor your lack of help when d'Artagnan needed it." Aramis had already told him of Porthos' reaction to finding out what had happened this day. Even telling him that his brother had gone to see Treville of his own accord. Athos had already left the captain's office by that time and so wasn't privy to whatever words were spoken between the two men.

"Yeah, I know ya will," Porthos grunted. He had made profuse apologies many times over to the whelp. In turn d'Artagnan had tried telling Porthos that he didn't lay any blame at his doorstep. Yet Porthos felt guilty all the same.

"Gentlemen, I have orders to impart," Athos' gaze settled on each of his friends. "We are to escort Queen Anne on the morrow when she goes to Bourbon-Les-Eaux to take up the waters," Athos noted the look upon Aramis' and Porthos' faces. "Is there a problem?"

"Ya would have thought the queen would 'ave given up by now," Porthos remarked with feeling. Seeing a puzzled look upon d'Artagnan's face, he grinned. "Waters of fertility, whelp," then laughed outright as the boy blushed to the roots of his hair. "King Louis must really be gettin' in a right snit that Queen Anne can't seem ta conceive."

"It may not be _her_ problem," d'Artagnan innocently offered as all eyes trained on him.

"What does a former farmboy from Lupiac know about it?" Aramis exchanged a wry look with Athos, the latter grinned.

"I lived and worked on a farm," d'Artagnan rolled his eyes. "My maman was a mid-wife along with her other chores. Hearing things of this nature was a common occurrence in my home."

"I wonder if Louis has had that turn of thought," Athos mused, shaking his head.

"He's the king," Porthos said, "I doubt he'd place the blame on 'emself."

"This is a lovely topic of discussion," Aramis broke in, "but could we change the subject?"

"We need to turn in for we all have to be up early," Athos glanced at their pup. "You might as well just stay the night here, d'Artagnan."

"Fine by me," d'Artagnan stood up, stretched and yawned in that order. Hearing chuckles come from the others, he ducked his head shyly. "Been a loooong day." Nodding at his brothers, d'Artagnan headed for the extra bedroom that he usually stayed in.

When the door shut behind d'Artagnan, Porthos looked between both of his brothers. "Kid really all right?"

"Not a hair out of place," Athos said deadpanned.

"Ya gonna ride me about this for a long time ain't ya?" Porthos growled, not getting any sympathy from Aramis either.

"What do you think?" Athos knew that he had his own troubles but refused to let them interfere with his duty. Porthos should have known better.

"Merde!" Porthos swore, grabbed his hat and stomped out the door.

"Athos," Aramis' fingers gripped his hat dangling from his hand, "be gentle with him."

"Just make sure Porthos turns up sober tomorrow," Athos dipped his head in farewell, closing the door behind Aramis.

++++

_Convent in Bourbon-Les-Eaux_

"How long did d'Artagnan say they'd be back," Aramis picked off another of Gallagher's men.

"Tomorrow at the earliest," Athos fired his musket at another mercenary trying to climb the walls of their sanctuary.

Laughing, Aramis shook his head ruefully. "You know my parents always hoped I'd end up in a place like this."

Grinning, Athos glanced at his friend. "They wanted you to become a nun?" Hearing his brother's soft laughter lightened his own heart.

"Reinforcements can't come soon enough," Aramis watched Mother Superior come into the room with her homemade bombs.

"You have a new sideline after all this is over," Athos nodded to the basket full of bombs, earning a shy smile from Mother Superior.

"I doubt God would look kindly on us if we were to make a profit from this." Mother Superior took some bombs from the basket and placed them on a table for the men to use. Followed closely by a sister, Mother Superior left to distribute the rest. 

"If d'Artagnan and Porthos don't make it back here in time we're going to need a miracle," Aramis pointed out.

"We're in the right place for one," Athos smirked, keeping his sights on the enemy.

"It would appear my timing is just right. I heard you were in need of a miracle," came a woman's voice from behind the men, making both of the Musketeers whirl around aiming their muskets at her.

" _Anne_ ," Athos whispered in a state of shock to see her, of all people, standing there.

"I asked for a _miracle_ ," Aramis glared at her, "you don't exactly fit the bill."

"Looks like I'm all you boys have right now," Milady stepped further into the room. "Aside from the good sisters that is."

"Tis getting to become a habit with you," Athos' voice ground out. "First we meet in a cathedral and now a convent."

"I'd add something witty to that but," she smacked her lips together, "there is nothing I could say to do it justice." 

"We have reinforcements on the way," Aramis informed her, making his distaste for Milady's presence known. 

"Then you'll have me in the meantime," Milady touched the ruby stone on her choker.

Seeing the red gem begin to glow, Athos' eyes narrowed on it. "Why should we trust you?"

"I've had a scolding from Artemis about my past behavior," Milady admitted. "And I do not see eye to eye with the cardinal on what is taking place here."

"Richelieu!" Athos shouted. "This is all his doing?" he ran a hand through his hair. God only knew where his hat had gotten too.

"Mon Dieu!" Aramis nearly dropped his weapons. "His Eminence would stoop that low?"

"He already has, Aramis," Milady joined the marksman to stare out the window as more of Gallagher's mercenaries gathered together.


	14. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was roaming Youtube yesterday and was astounded to discover a 6 part mini series called The First Musketeer. It is a full ensemble cast. I don't know where it came from but it wasn't bad. It is the beginning of when Athos, Porthos and Aramis met. By episode 6 they introduce Aramis. Apparently this is season one. I have no idea if there is more to come. You can look it up on Youtube that way or go to their website. There's lots of information there. http://firstmusketeer.com. Enjoy! My only disappointment was there's no d'Artagnan.
> 
> ++++

_Convent in Bourbon-Les-Eaux - same place and time as when we left everyone_

As the ruby gem glowed ever more bright, Milady stuck her head out of the window and waved her hand toward the ground below where most of Gallagher's men were stationed.

Athos and Aramis just stared dumbly at each other wondering what Milady was conjuring up. It didn't take them long to find out as screams and shouts reached their ears. Running to look out the same window as Milady, both men were on either side of her.

Shoulders shaking with laughter, Aramis turned his head to the side and caught Athos' amused gaze. "Rochefort has suddenly grown to monumental proportions."

Knowing to what Aramis referred, Athos' lips curled upward. "Except that monster outside is only a pale imitation of the true _monster_ Rochefort is."

More screams were heard as Mother Superior strode in. "Mon Dieu!" her hands covered her ears. "What is that infernal noise?"

"I'm sorry, Mother Superior," Milady dipped her head, "but tis the only thing I could think upon to keep those mercenaries from taking over the convent and thus gain access to the queen."

"But what is happening out there?" Mother Superior tried to edge past Athos and Aramis but those two gently pushed her back.

"Have you ever seen a Cyclops, Mother Superior?" Athos noted the older woman's eyes becoming twin saucers. "For tis that which is causing the disturbance you are hearing."

Making the sign of the cross, Mother Superior faced the two Musketeers with a staunch resolve. "Let me see this creature that is not of God's making." Squeezing her smaller frame in-between the two soldiers, Mother Superior went toward the window and couldn't believe her eyes. A gigantic form that was shaped like a human being, but with one eye in the center of his forehead, was wrecking havoc outside of the convent's walls. He was a grotesque parody of a man and her heart held nothing but pity for it.

Gently taking her by the arm, Athos pulled Mother Superior away from the carnage and destruction she was witnessing as the Cyclops tore Gallagher's men apart.

Arams folded, leaning casually against the wall with his hat pulled low over his head, Aramis began to whistle softly.

"Aramis," Athos drawled with an arched brow.

"Just happy to have one-eye out there taking care of _our_ business with us nice and cozy within the hallowed grounds of our sanctuary." Aramis tipped his hat up and caught Athos' sardonic grin. Spreading his arms out wide he added, "Besides, all that shooting we've been doing has given me a God awful headache. So I'm all for the big guy out there taking them all on." Turning toward Milady, Aramis doffed his hat. "Many thanks for the help."

"Just doing my part for France," Milady murmured, her green eyes shifted toward Athos' silent presence by Mother Superior's side.

"Up until now we've guessed you've been doing your _part_ with Cardinal Richelieu," Athos' eyes darkened, but aside from that his expression gave nothing else away.

"I never told the boy who employed me," Milady huffed, trying to remember what she may have told d'Artagnan that gave her away.

"D'Artagnan figured it out before any of us did," Aramis put in with something like pride in his voice for the lad. "He followed you one night to see where you went. Our pup's got good instincts for one so young."

"And speaking of _youth_ ," Athos observed his wife gaze cooly back at him, "set your sights on someone more suited to your own age, Anne."

Lifting a brow high, Milady snorted. "You and I are ancient history. Where do you get off telling me whom I can see?"

"Being your _husband_ still," Athos glared at her, "gives me some rights in that department."

"Better late than never," Milady threw him a hateful look.

"As nice as this is," Aramis interrupted, "in case you've both forgotten we have a queen to protect."

"Just so," Athos dipped his head slightly to acknowledge his brother's reminder. Looking at his wife again he rolled his eyes and took her by the elbow. "Why do you not go with Mother Superior and throw some bombs."

"At you?" Milady smiled sweetly, secretly loving the flash of fire in Athos' eyes.

"Hardly," he retorted dryly, pushing Milady out of the room with Mother Superior chuckling softly behind her.

Quietly snickering, Aramis shook his head. "Couldn't wait to be rid of her, huh?" Hearing Athos' grunt, Aramis hid his smile from his friend.

"Let us hope Cyclops buys us enough time for our reinforcements to arrive," Athos went over to the table where Mother Superior had placed a basket full of bombs.

"In the meantime," Aramis grinned, "it wouldn't hurt to toss some of Mother Superior's most excellent homemade weapons down there." Holding one bomb in each hand he held one out to Athos. "You know it will make your day." Hearing his older brother grumbling under his breath brought an answering smile to Aramis' face, while he happily threw his lit weapon out the window. "Bombs away!" Aramis gave a little wave to Gallagher's men that scrambled away from the projectile. "Oh tis going to be a fine day indeed."

++++

_A few hours later_

"Is our side winning still?" Milady walked cautiously back into the room she had left awhile ago, not sure if Athos was going to throw her out again or not.

"Cyclops has done considerable damage to Gallagher's men," Athos remarked.

"And since we are now losing the light of day," Aramis removed his weapon's belt, "I believe the remaining mercenaries will wait for tomorrow before trying to breech these walls."

"Treville and the others will be here on the morrow and we will finish this then," Athos stared at Anne with a question in his gaze. "How does it feel?"

"How does _what_ feel?" Milady countered.

"To be fighting on the right side for once?" Athos clarified.

"I don't know yet." Milary crossed over to where he stood and whispered in his ear. "Ask me tomorrow."

Watching her quickly escape the room again, Athos found that he could once more breathe.

++++

_Next day - early morning_

"Time for one-eye to make an appearance again," Aramis announced, watching Milady closely as she touched her choker.

Fingering the red ruby, Milady frowned when nothing happened. She remembered Artemis' words and Milady understood that her powers would only be stripped if she did not change her ways. So this must be a result from her change of allegiances instead. "It would appear that now I'm turning over a new leaf my ability to summon up demonic creatures has come to a halt."

"You do _one_ good thing in your life," Athos bellowed, "and now this happens!" he stabbed a finger into the air.

"Don't take it out on me!" Milady shouted back.

"Under normal circumstances I'd say a duel would be in proper order," Aramis' eyes bounced back and forth between the furious couple. "But our situation is hardly what one would call _normal_ to begin with."

"Duels are illegal," Athos drolly announced, his rage slowly dwindling away.

"Bien," Aramis shrugged, "do try not to kill each other before our comrades arrive to rescue us."

Taking his spyglass from his weapon's belt, Athos leaned out the window and focused it out over the landscape. "Have no worries on that score, Aramis, rescue is at hand," Athos turned around and grinned. "Treville is here."

Taking his cross out of his shirt, Aramis kissed it gazing at the cross of Jesus hanging from one of the walls. Closing his eyes he gave thanks to God.

++++

_Outside the convent walls_

By the time Captain Treville and his men arrived at the convent, Gallagher's band numbered less than fourteen. Though they had no idea that a Cyclops had intervened killing a goodly portion of the mercenaries, Treville was grateful that it wouldn't mean a lengthy battle since he had brought along twenty Musketeers with him. In that he was proven right as he and his men easily won the day.

"Thought this would of been harder," Porthos looked around and couldn't help but notice the many dead, ruined bodies that littered the ground. Seeing how some of them had been brutally butchered, Porthos knew it wasn't done by their hands. When he glanced over his shoulder, Porthos grinned seeing that d'Artagnan had Gallagher at sword's point. He had to yell out at the whelp to hold off killing the man. "Yo, d'Art! Don't skewer him yet, lad!"

"Spoiling my fun again, Porthos!" d'Artagnan hollered back but obeyed the seasoned Musketeer's order.

++++

_Back inside the convent_

Astonished to discover that Milady had given Her Majesty aid in defending the convent, Treville nodded his head in gratitude at Athos' wife.

Roughly shoving Gallagher to his knees, d'Artagnan stood ready to defend his queen if the Irishman made any wrong move toward her.

Standing over the ex-chieftain, Queen Anne looked down upon Gallagher's unrepentant face. "I want you to tell me who hired you?" Already having heard Milady's confession, Queen Anne had pardoned her since because of Milady's help Captain Treville was able to defeat what mercenaries were left. She just wanted it confirmed that Cardinal Richelieu was behind this assassination attempt on her life.

Since his hands were bound behind his back, Gallagher couldn't retrieve the paper he held. "Upper right pocket of my jacket is the proof you're looking for."

Reaching for it, d'Artagnan took out the crumpled missive. Quickly scanning its contents he held it out to Captain Treville. Going to stand beside Athos, d'Artagnan leaned over and whispered, "Cardinal Richelieu's dug his own grave this time."

"I will believe that when I see Richelieu deep in the ground and I get to throw dirt upon his coffin," Athos murmured from the side of his mouth.

After Treville read the piece of paper he handed it off to Queen Anne. Seeing her face harden, Treville was glad that he wasn't in the cardinal's shoes.

"We ride for Paris immediately, Captain," Queen Anne ordered. "My loyal Musketeers will protect me from further harm."

"It would be best when we arrive back that Gallagher be secreted somewhere far from Richelieu's reach," Athos suggested and was satisfied when the queen nodded her acceptance.

"Men, secure the prisoner Gallagher and any other of his band that may have survived. Then ready yourselves for the journey home," Treville ordered.

"Mother Superior," Athos walked over to the older woman, "I cannot say how very grateful we are for the safety of your sanctuary and assistance," he bowed low over her hand.

"Tis the most excitement this convent has seen in many a day, my son," she grinned at the amusement Mother Superior saw dancing in the soldier's deep blue eyes.

Queen Anne was next as she took Mother Superior's hands in her own. "If ever you are in need send word to me at the Royal Palace," she gently squeezed the other woman's work roughened hands.

Cupping the young queen's cheek in her palm, Mother Superior smiled. "My child, God answers all of our needs," her eyes began to twinkle. "But if I were ever to run out of ammunition to shoot those infernal Protestants you'll be the first to know."

Laughter all around at Mother Superior's quip, the Musketeers gathered supplies that the sisters had graciously provided for them.

"Athos," d'Artagnan hissed in his mentor's ear, "how come Milady to be here to begin with?" When he had brought Gallagher inside the convent he had been stunned to see the woman who, not so long ago, told him not to choose the Musketeers or else. Having been informed of how Milady summoned up Cyclops to help them out of a difficult situation, d'Artagnan was confused.

"I do not know the circumstances for her turnabout," Athos replied stiffly, "only that her arrival was timely."

"Do you believe we can trust her?" d'Artagnan knew that with Milady's confession and the note to Gallagher in the cardinal's handwriting, that Richelieu wouldn't be able to sweet talk his way out of this plot against the queen. Still, that didn't mean Milady didn't have an ulterior motive in helping them.

"By giving aid Milady already lost her powers to bedevil us with monsters," Athos noted shock cross the young Gascon's face. "It was a great sacrifice even if she didn't know it would happen."

"Milady doesn't look exactly devastated by it either," d'Artagnan quietly added. Then getting Gallagher back on his feet, he shoved the man out the door.

"Mother Superior," Aramis too bowed over her hand, "it's been a lovely visit," he quickly winked at her, "but alas we have to move on." He put his hat back on and glanced one more time at his surroundings. "Tis to be hoped that your convent knows nothing but peace from here on out."

Patting the sword in Aramis' weapon's belt, Mother Superior gave him a knowing look. "Love rules its kingdom without a sword," she took his arm and walked outside with him. "We live by that motto around here and it has never failed us until our queen had to take refuge here."

"A lovely sentiment to be sure," Aramis went over to Belle who softly snorted at him in greeting. "Tis a shame that not all of us can live by that." Mounting his horse, Aramis tipped his hat to Mother Superior and rode over to where the rest of the Musketeers were gathered.

++++

_Note:_

The phrase: _"Love rules its kingdom without a sword"_ is an English Proverb.

 _Cyclops_ \- a giant with one eye in the center of his forehead.


	15. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See note at bottom.
> 
> ++++

_En Route to Paris_

On their way home the inseparables, d'Artagnan and Milady devised a trap for Cardinal Richelieu. It had been decided, with Treville's blessing, that Athos would pretend to want to kill his wife with d'Artagnan intervening. Athos then would shoot the boy in the arm thus making Milady take the lad home with her and, in turn bring, d'Artagnan back to the cardinal telling His Eminence that the Gascon wants to change sides.

"I hope the cardinal has a strong heart," Athos commented dryly, earning confused faces all around. "Once he finds out Queen Anne lives Richelieu may have a fit."

"If anyone deserves one tis him," Aramis glanced over at the queen who rode between Porthos and d'Artagnan.

"I trust my loyal Musketeers," Queen Anne nodded. "Whatever plan you work out I am positive will do well in our favor," her eyes hardened to stone. "I want to bring Cardinal Richelieu down so low he may never get back up."

"Your Majesty," d'Artagnan's eyes gleamed, "you are my kind of queen," her soft laughter rang in his ears. D'Artagnan suddenly realized what he had said and ducked his head shyly.

"My sentiments exactly," Treville agreed, noting the blush that stole over the young Gascon's face.

"I wonder what the queen has planned in regards to the cardinal once it comes out His Eminence tried to have her murdered." Aramis' dark eyes fell upon Athos. He couldn't see into his brother's eyes to gauge his friend's reaction as Athos' hat was pulled low over his brow.

"I cannot say," Athos murmured quietly. "I only know what I would like to do to the man," he took in a deep breath. "Tis to be hoped that once she confronts him Richelieu will either lose his head or be sent back to Rome in disgrace."

"Mmmmmm," Aramis hummed, not adding anything further to his brother's wishes.

"Eyes front, men," Treville ordered. "Paris isn't far away but we still need to be vigilant on our journey back."

"Aye," Porthos said. "We're deliverin' precious cargo back to Paris."

"Amen, mon frere," Aramis smiled, taking in the queen's relaxed posture as she struck up a conversation with d'Artagnan and Milady.

++++

_Next day, late afternoon - Royal Palace_

For once King Louis actually acted like he cared about his wife. He reached out to her, asking if she was all right. Was she hurt? And how dare those mercenaries attack her.

Anne answered as was expected of her, all the while trying not to glare at Cardinal Richelieu who pretended to be pleased to see her. Though it did please her to see the cardinal turn a sickly shade of pale.

Listening to the king and how truly caring he sounded toward the queen, Richelieu realized that he had made a gross miscalculation on Louis' feelings in regards toward his young wife. Walking over to Treville he nearly couldn't make eye contact. "Do you have the men responsible?"

"Some of the mercenaries that remained alive, oui," Treville replied. "They are in the Chatelet as we speak."

"Good... good," Richlieu said. He couldn't ask about Gallagher for that would point the finger directly back at him and could only pray that the Irish chieftain was one of the dead or had escaped and fled France for good. But then Richelieu would have another worry in that regard if Gallagher lived. The man could possibly, at some point, decide to blackmail him. If that event were to happen, Richelieu would deal with it. For now he was simply glad Queen Anne had survived since his plan had royally backfired in his face.

"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" Louis held his wife close in his arms.

"No, you have not," Anne smirked, enjoying this rare show of affection knowing, that for once, it wasn't done with the cardinal prodding Louis along. Her husband truly appeared beside himself with concern for her.

Feeling like he should say something appropriate, Richelieu cleared his throat. "To love another person is to see the face of God."

"Very profound, cardinal," King Louis grinned and then took his wife by the arm and led her into the great hall.

"I believe that we have been silently dismissed," Treville smiled at his men, waving a hand toward the doors for them to depart.

"I hope this plan of ours works," Porthos whispered into Athos' ear as they left the palace grounds behind them and headed back to the garrison.

"Richelieu doesn't know that Anne helped us defeat Gallagher's men. She is safe back at her apartments waiting for tonight's performance to begin," Athos allowed himself a small smile at the thought of what was to come. "I believe for once we are one up on His Eminence."

"Athos," d'Artagnan said from behind his mentor, "I know it was my idea to have you shoot me but do be careful won't you?"

Stopping in his tracks, Athos turned abruptly around and stared at the boy with something like pain in his blue eyes. "I will do my best but to shoot you, child, I will have to be drunk. For I cannot do something like this to you sober."

Feeling an arm creep around his shoulder, d'Artagnan turned his head and encountered Aramis' kind gaze on him. "Tis why we all decided it best Athos only shoot you in the arm."

"I feel a whole lot better now," d'Artagnan mumbled under his breath, walking ahead of them shaking his head.

++++

Late evening - Garrison courtyard

Porthos came running into the courtyard panting. "Athos is out there threatening to kill a woman."

Both d'Artagnan and Aramis jumped off the bench they had been resting on and followed Porthos at a run.

Seeing Athos swaying alarmingly back and forth with Milady in his arms, waving his pistol in the air, d'Artagnan was hard pressed to realize this was truly an act.

"Athos," Aramis begged, "you don't want to do this."

"Don't I," Athos arched his brow. "She's my wife and I can do what I please with her!" he spat.

Pretending to struggle in her husband's arms, Milady stared wide-eyed at the boy. "D'Artagnan, help me!"

"I'm not surprised you're in cahoots with her," Athos' eyes narrowed on the lad. "Come any closer and I'll shoot you."

"Athos, I can't let you do this," d'Artagnan started to go forward but Treville joined them by then and acted out his part for their audience. But when the captain stepped back, d'Artagnan stepped closer to Athos and that's when he felt the ball go into him. Not his arm, like he had expected, but his side which felt on fire as he began to lose consciousness.

"What have you done?" Milady hissed in anguish, feeling Athos slump against her back.

"Mon Dieu!" Athos growled low in his throat. He watched as Porthos tried to keep d'Artagnan with them while Treville held the pup up. Aramis looked sick with worry and none of them glanced his way.

++++

_Milady's apartments_

"Ouch!" d'Artagnan yelped as the doctor finished bandaging his wound. He watched as the physician cleaned his hands and put his instruments away. Then Milady paid him and the man left. She came to sit on the edge of his bed and began to run her fingers gently through his hair.

"Perhaps we should have had Aramis shoot you," Milady frowned seeing the fresh bandage begin to turn slightly red as d'Artagnan's injury still bled.

"That wouldn't have worked and you know it," d'Artagnan closed his eyes. "You told me yourself that the cardinal knows Athos is your husband."

Sighing, she dropped her hand back into her lap. "Oui," Milady shrugged, "it was only a thought." She stood up and watched the boy's breathing as d'Artagnan went back to sleep. "Oh, Athos, you're going to kick yourself over this one," Milady whispered into the air.

++++

_Next day, mid afternoon - Captain Treville's office_

After laughing and clapping arms around each other they all stepped back when d'Artagnan moaned and grabbed his side.

"Be careful, I'm a wounded man remember," d'Artagnan smiled.

"Is it bad," Athos' eyes narrowed as he looked his protége in the eye, wanting nothing but the truth from the lad.

"You were supposed to shoot me in the arm," d'Artagnan complained with irony.

"A shot to the side is so much more authentic," Athos said, hearing Aramis clapping his hands beside him.

"Surely you're not claiming to have done that deliberately," Aramis snorted, not believing it for a second. They had this planned right down to the tee.

"Accuracy is hard after three bottles of wine," Athos admitted, noting d'Artagnan rolling his eyes at him and hearing Porthos' comment about that part being right.

"All of this aside," Treville interrupted, "d'Artagnan now has to carry out the next part that leads to your death, Athos."

"I'm looking forward to it," Athos grinned. "Do give me a nice send off if you will."

++++

_Late afternoon - Palais-Cardinal_

After d'Artagnan and Athos have it out, ending with Porthos and Aramis claiming d'Artagnan killed their friend, Milady took the boy to see Cardinal Richelieu.

"What do you expect of me now, d'Artagnan?" Richelieu threw up his hands. "You've killed a fellow Musketeer," he sneered. "Tis true I wanted you to join my Red Guards but now you're a wanted man and there's nothing I can do for you."

"Ah," d'Artagnan held up a finger, "but there is something I can do for _you_ , Your Eminence."

"Of what do you talk about?" Richelieu pinched the bridge of his nose. "And be quick about it." Beside him Cerberus paced back and forth just waiting for a word from Richelieu to attack if needs must.

"I need your protection and of course a commission in the Red Guards in exchange for saving your neck," d'Artagnan waited for the cardinal to take the bait.

Shooting up from his chair, Richelieu glowered at the young upstart. "Speak plainly of what you mean!"

"I know it was your scheme to kill Queen Anne," d'Artagnan didn't miss how Richelieu's eyes flitted immediately to Milady. "She and I have an understanding of sorts."

"Of course you do," Richelieu closed his eyes and then opened them again. "What is this _something_ you can do for me?"

"As you now know I've killed Athos, my former friends Aramis and Porthos will be out for my blood," d'Artagnan said.

"What has that to do with me?" Richelieu was fast losing his patience with the Gascon.

"Gallagher is alive," d'Artagnan dropped that bombshell on the cardinal's head and nearly danced with glee as Richelieu appeared truly ill. "Aramis has the note in his possession that you gave the mercenary with orders to murder Queen Anne."

"I see," Richelieu tried to collect himself. It wouldn't do for his guards, that were in the room with them, to see him fall apart.

"You set up a meet with Aramis and say you'll exchange me for the missive that implicates you in the crime against the monarchy," d'Artagnan felt confident His Eminence was going to fall for it.

"And then what do you propose to happen after that?" Richelieu was in definite need of some fresh air after this.

"Take the letter from Aramis of course but with one exception... they don't get me but you do," d'Artagnan explained. "They won't be able to touch me once I'm a Red Guard"

"All right," Richelieu agreed. "I'll make sure that Aramis receives my missive and we'll set up the exchange," he watched the boy's face closely and could see no deception in it just nervousness. And who wouldn't be? He had just killed his best friend and lost the faith of his brothers in the process all over a woman. Well women have been the downfall of many a man and d'Artagnan was no exception. Right now all Richelieu was concerned with was getting his hand on that damnable note he had given Gallagher. When he had that in his clutches, Richelieu would then make certain that the chieftain couldn't talk to anyone ever again.

++++

_Next day, mid morning_

Having had the mock funeral for Athos, Aramis and Porthos together went to meet up with the cardinal.

"Gentlemen," Richelieu held out his hand for the letter. "As you can see I've kept my part of the bargain," he waved his other hand toward d'Artagnan who stood between two of his Red Guards. "I'll take that missive now." Taking precautions, Richelieu had brought Cerberus along for protection and let his dog change into its true form for the duration of this meeting.

"Merde! Ya know I'd love nothin' better than to kill that beast," Porthos growled.

"You're not alone in that sentiment, mon ami," Aramis patted his friend on the back. "Just ignore it."

Snorting, Porthos glared at his brother. "Kinda hard ta do when faced with three heads."

"Mmmmm, you do have a point," Aramis nodded as he stepped forward to give the cardinal the note the man so desperately wanted. But then Aramis quickly snatched the letter back again out of reach of His Emience's fingertips while Aramis tried to get Richelieu to admit his part in trying to kill Queen Anne. After having danced around the issue for several minutes, Aramis was finally rewarded with the truth.

"The queen has failed time after time to conceive," Richelieu snapped. "France will collapse without an heir to carry on for King Louis. Mellendorf's daughter seemed to get on well with His Majesty so I helped matters along."

"By trying to eliminate Her Majesty!" Porthos cried indignantly, liking nothing better than to plunge his rapier into the cardinal's black heart.

"Needs must," Richelieu casually shrugged his shoulders. "Now that note if you will," he wiggled his fingers. When it was placed in his he quickly opened it to discover that it was simply a blank sheet of paper. "Delightful," he chuckled wryly. "You've tricked me into an admission. So what? It won't do you any good. No one would take a lowly Musketeer's word over mine."

"What about me, Cardinal," Queen Anne's voice projected strongly in the room as she slowly approached Richelieu.

Smirking, d'Artagnan watched all color leech from His Eminence's face as the cardinal dropped to the floor, his cape billowing out behind him as he did so.

"Look, Cardinal," Queen Anne order. "Look into the eyes of the woman you tried to kill."

"Hail, Holy Queen," Richelieu bowed his head low. "What I did I did for the good of France."

"And tis because of that I will spare your life," Queen Anne could tell that her words had disappointed her Musketeers including Captain Treville. "Gather your things together, Cardinal," she said firmly. "I have already written to Rome," her eyes glowed softly. "They are awaiting your arrival and will deal with your punishment."

"But the king..." Richelieu didn't say another word as Queen Anne held up her hand for him to stop.

"I care not what tears Louis sheds over your departure," she was resolute in keeping her composure and not breaking down. "Be grateful you are keeping your head. I will not stand for a snake in my Royal Gardens." Just before Queen Anne was ready to leave, her eyes lit up with amusement. "I hear Cardinal Mazarin is at loose ends." Turning her back on him, Queen Anne missed Richelieu's face turning purple. Taking Captain Treville's arm she looked Aramis in the eye and nodded.

Stepping forward Aramis took hold of Cardinal Richelieu's right arm while Porthos took the left, with d'Artagnan bringing up the rear holding his poignard against His Eminence's back for good measure. It seemed that they would have an uneventful trip back to the cardinal's rooms where they would watch Richelieu sadly gather his treasures to take with him to Rome.

It was then that Cerberus decided to take exception to that fact and roared its fury. Since d'Artagnan was the closest to the creature, he whirled around to face it. Summoning his golden blade, d'Artagnan danced around the hellhound until he had an opportunity to slice Cerberus open with his scythe. The beast's pain bought d'Artagnan enough time to swing his scythe at one of Cerberus' heads. Seeing it fall at his feet, he stepped backward until it rolled past him and came to a halt right in front of the cardinal.

"Oy!" Porthos shouted. "Let me 'ave at it too!" Swinging his bronze blade with all his might, Porthos brought down Cerberus until it was no more than fairy dust.

"A most pleasant way to rid us of its presence," Aramis dipped his head at his brothers.

"Gents," Treville called out. "Let us be on our way. The Red Guards have orders to retreat back to their barracks."

"I love it when a plan comes together," d'Artagnan's grin spread wide across his face as he anticipated telling Athos everything that had happened. It was well worth the pain of being shot in the side.

++++

_Note:_

The quote: _"To love another person is to see the face of God"_ was said by Victor Hugo


	16. Chapter 15

_Still same time, right after exposing Cardinal Richelieu’s duplicty_

A tearful King Louis listened patiently as Anne and his old Fox explained everything that had transpired, right up to and including the well laid trap they had sprung on Cardinal Richelieu. After letting them have their say, Louis’ tears quickly dried up and he was bouncing around his throne room yelling to the top of his lungs. "I want the cardinal's head! Preferably on a silver platter!" he threw himself upon his throne, slumping sideways in it as he covered his face with both hands. "And we should do it for all my subjects to see that no one should place themselves above their king," he was saddened by the actions of his first minister and wondered if there was anyone he could truly trust. Anne, good woman that she was, calmed him down enough for him to listen to her as there was apparently more to hear.

"A public display may cause more harm than good, Louis," Anne pointed out. "I have already taken it upon myself to make arrangements, with the help of Captain Treville, for Cardinal Richelieu to be transferred back to Rome where he will be duly punished. The captain handpicked Musketeers to accompany him on the journey and they will carry a sealed missive explaining the cardinal's plot to kill me."

"Tis to be hoped Richelieu will be defrocked and kicked out of the Catholic church altogether," Treville added. For his part he would have enjoyed seeing Richelieu dangling from the end of a noose.

"I also added to my letter that we graciously request the presence of Cardinal Mazarin as Richelieu's replacement and that we will look forward to his arrival in Paris as soon as possible," Anne dared her husband to say a thing to that. After all Richelieu didn't try to murder him.

"Mazarin?" Louis grumbled but eventually he capitulated to her handling of this entire dreadful affair. If in matters of the heart Louis never turned to Anne, he looked to her for wise counsel which she always gave in political matters. She was intelligent and had a poise few women of his acquaintance could match. Perhaps Louis thought he’d been looking for love in truly all the wrong places when it was at home to begin with.

“Has the cardinal left the premises yet?” King Louis looked to Treville.

“Under heavy guard, Your Majesty,” Treville held back from smiling like he wanted too.

Hanging his head down, staring at the floor, Louis lifted it back up and took Anne’s arm. “Let us retreat to my chambers,” with a brief look at his captain Louis dipped his head, waving a hand at Treville to depart. "Anne, ma belle amour," he cooed, "let us discuss plans for Cardinal Mazarin's reception."

Hearing those words from His Majesty as he left, Treville couldn't help the smirk that worked its way free.

++++

_Palais-Cardinal_

Comte Rochefort realized that now with Richelieu's dismissal, and possible defrocking, he needed to move fast in worming his way into King Louis' good graces as the cardinal once had done. He needed to make his mark before the arrival of Mazarin. Knowing it was only through the collective efforts of the inseparables, d'Artagnan and Milady that brought the Palais-Cardinal down upon Richelieu's head, Rochefort made it a point to not underestimate them from hereon out.

++++

_Musketeer infirmary_

"Quit squirming around or I'll make Porthos sit on you so I can apply your mother's salve to your side," Aramis huffed. He knew the wound still pained the boy, and d'Artagnan didn't want Athos to see the discomfort he was still experiencing. No one does _guilt_ better than Athos, so Aramis couldn't blame the lad for putting off having the injury tended to again.

"Porthos isn't here," d'Artagnan's eyes scanned the room and there wasn't any sign of the dark-skinned Musketeer ready to pounce on him.

Eyes dancing, Aramis opened the jar of prepared salve and spread a liberal amount on the angry, red injury that still weeped blood. "Doesn't mean he isn't right outside waiting."

Not believing his friend, d'Artagnan hollered out, "Porthos!" And then his heart dropped when Porthos poked his dark, curly head through the door.

"Ya called, whelp?"

Rolling his eyes, d'Artagnan snorted. "You might as well come in and stand guard so I don't strangle Aramis."

Crossing his arms Porthos leaned against the wall, giving Aramis a wide grin." "You're supposed ta be gentle with the kid, Mis."

Running a hand through his tangled hair, Aramis straightened up and re-sealed the container of salve.

"If my patient would only cooperative with me," Aramis winked at Porthos, "d'Artagnan would be fine."

"Says the man who keeps pressing on my wound," d'Artagnan snarked, then turned his puppy dog eyes on the marksman.

"Turn it off," Aramis chuckled. "By now I'm more than immune to that look as is Porthos. Don't know about Athos though."

"Talking about me behind my back, Aramis," Athos strode into the room accompanied by Anne. "Tis not good form."

"Only in the sincerest sense," Aramis offered, nodding his head in greeting to Milady.

Glancing at his protégé laying on the bed, Athos eyes flicked toward the medic. "Did d'Artagnan get hurt again?"

Biting his lip, d'Artagnan's liquid brown eyes silently implored Aramis not to tell his mentor the truth. Sitting up, d'Artagnan tugged his doublet down covering his injury.

"A slight mishap," Aramis lied for the boy. "Nothing serious."

"There wasn't time for d'Artagnan to have a _mishap_ ," Anne pointed out with a finely arched brow.

Having a feeling he was being duped, Athos glanced at Anne. "I feel the wool's being pulled over my eyes."

"Baaaaaa," Anne's laughter was infectious, noting Athos' lips twitching.

Finding her response quite amusing, Athos kept a straight face though. "Would everyone mind stepping outside for a moment."

"Merde," Porthos swore softly, feeling for the whelp on the bed.

Stepping past his friend, Aramis tapped his leader's arm. "Be gentle with him. Our pup only thinks of you."

Both brows rose high at his brother's comment. Tilting his head up slightly to stare at Aramis and then back at the Gascon, Athos said, "Do you not think I already know that and more?"

Waiting for Milady to go first, Porthos and Aramis soon followed her out the door.

Swallowing hard, d'Artagnan peeked up at his mentor through his long hair as Athos sat down on the bed. He had to scoot over slightly to make room for his brother, ending up grimacing in pain. Automatically d'Artagnan touched his side, not being able to help himself.

"Lift up your doublet if you will," Athos gently ordered.

"Tis bandaged, you won't see anything," d'Artagnan's fingers remained on the bottom edges of his doublet as he firmly tugged it down.

"Let me be the judge of that," Athos patiently waited for the boy to undo his doublet, wincing when he hardly could miss signs of blood seeping through the fresh bandages. Recognizing his own handiwork from earlier, Athos frowned knowing he had indeed been told an untruth. "I thought you mentioned to me that it was healing well," Athos' voice held great concern for his protégé.

"It was until I had to fight Cerberus," d'Artagnan admitted.

Sighing, Athos tone was grim. "You are not to do anything until that properly heals." Seeing the pup about to argue, Athos held a hand up. "Do not start with me, young man." Athos reached out, carding his fingers through the lad's hair.

"Don't treat me like a child," d'Artagnan grabbed Athos' hand and tore it away from his hair.

"Then stop acting like a petit garcon and listen to your elders," Athos countered. He watched as the youngster yawned and rubbed his eyes, sliding back down upon the bed. If Athos dared point out to the boy that right now he indeed resembled a child, his life wouldn't be worth living. Observing d'Artagnan fighting off sleep, he smiled when Morpheus won and his pup's breathing evened out. Silently Athos stood up and left the room with one last look over his shoulder.

++++

Seeing his brothers and Anne still waiting outside, Athos shooed them all down the steps. "He's asleep," his eyes slid toward Aramis. "Did you give the lad something to drink?"

"It was a mild pain draught," Aramis looked at everyone watching him and began to cluck when his dark eyes encountered the knowing ones of Athos. "I may have put a pinch more sleeping powder in it than necessary."

"Ya know, Mis," Porthos laughed, "kid's gonna get even with ya later for that one."

"I'll deal with the brat when the time comes," Aramis noted Milady's green eyes narrow on him. He wouldn't have been surprised in the least if she trained one of her deadly arrows in his direction. "Honestly," he held up two fingers very close together, "twas only a _pinch_."

"Hmmmpf!" she grumbled, hearing sounds of Athos' quiet laughter behind her.

"You only had d'Artagnan's welfare at heart and therefore can be forgiven," Athos took in the relieved look that came over Aramis and smiled to himself, even though Anne's fingers seemed twitchy.

As the foursome continued across the courtyard they encountered Captain Treville coming their way.

"Where's d'Artagnan?" Seeing everyone but the young Gascon, Treville became greatly disturbed. The lad appeared fine when they had all left the Palais-Cardinal.

"His side still pains him," Aramis explained. "I treated it and d'Artagnan will be fine if slightly annoyed at me."

"Which means you gave the lad something to make him sleep," Treville grinned. "Good man." Since everyone was here but the boy, he needed to say something. "We may have rid ourselves of one problem but some of the poison still remains."

"Rochefort," Milady snorted. "He's such a charmer," she said a trifle sarcastically.

"I'm sure the comte had _charmed_ his way into your bed a time or two," Athos suggested, knowing that he wasn't far off the mark.

Shrugging one slim shoulder, Anne had the grace to look ashamed of that former liaison. "Not for a long while now."

"Pity," Treville seemed disappointed. "We could have used someone on the inside to know what he's capable of doing."

"That canaille is _capable_ of doing anything," Milady noted the captain's mouth open and snap shut. "Better prepare your regiment, Treville," her expression became wry. "Rochefort could become your worst nightmare."

"Tis a jolly piece of news that," Porthos grunted.

"I could have stood to hear something a bit cheerier," Aramis exchanged a serious look with Athos.

"I always had my doubts about Rochefort to begin with. Just look at the things he's thrown at d'Artagnan so far," Athos wasn't alone in his troubled thoughts for their youngest. He could tell by the round of drawn faces staring back at him they felt the same.

"What we have to do is keep Rochefort from becoming too chummy with King Louis," Milady was about to say more but was interrupted by an anxious voice.

"Where's d'Artagnan?" Constance was out of breath from running as she had just discovered the letter d'Artagnan had written for her and Jacques. "He left this," she waved a piece of paper in the air, "for us in his room but it must have blown off from wherever d'Artagnan had placed it. I just now found it under his bed when I was cleaning." Everyone just stared blankly at her, making Constance even madder. "Tell me you didn't let him do anything _stupid_ again?"

"Well?" Jacques demanded, joining his voice to that of his wife's. "What of the boy? As I see all of you standing here appearing none the worse for wear. I don't see him."

Before any of them could speak, Constance wasn't finished. "If I had known about this foolishness beforehand that all of you concocted I would have never let d'Artagnan do it." Rounding on Athos, she got right into his face, poking the Musketeer in the chest. "And _you_ ," Constance yelled, making Athos wince, "you're supposed to be his friend."

Turning on Athos as well, Jacques joined his wife's tirade. "I'd like to know too why you would agree to shooting your best friend?"

"Why don't the two of you come with me," Treville pulled them both away from his harrassed lieutenant. "Tis better discussed in my office."

"Constance," Athos murmured, "the boy's in the infirmary resting. The wound he received during our bit of play acting has become aggravated," he couldn't look into her furious face any longer but stared at the ground, "tis all."

"This had better be good," Constance grabbed Jacque's arm and they followed Captain Treville to his quarters.

"You know I would have enjoyed having a woman like that on my side," Anne mused.

"What? Our petit spitfire and you in cahoots," Porthos shook his head at the thought of that duo. "Perhaps it would have worked after all. They could 'av both given Richelieu grief."

"Now perhaps she and I could give Rochefort grief together," Anne winked at the inseparables as they all followed behind the captain and the Bonacieuxs.

++++

_Mount Olympus_

Gazing down upon the mortals, Artemis and Demeter were pleased at the outcome.

"Hades won't be happy but that's one less threat for them to deal with now that Cardinal Richelieu is out of the picture," Artemis walked over to a table and filled her goblet back up with wine.

"Still, there's Comte Rochefort to be dealt with and Perses won't give us the time of day," Demeter added. "He pretty much blew off Athena when she tried to talk to him."

"So we'll keep our eyes on Rochefort and if we must step in again we will," Artemis grinned. "Who knows, perhaps Perses is just playing hard to get," she threw a sly look at the other goddess. "Remember I've been known to get my man."

 


	17. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Temporary death of a major character in this one, very temporary but if you're squeamish you can blink over it and then its gone. LOL!
> 
> Also see note at bottom.
> 
>  
> 
> ++++

_Next day, early morning - garrison canteen_

"I heard Captain Treville managed to appease Constance and Jacques," Aramis stirred his bowl of hot porridge around to cool it off.

"Someone ought to enlist Constance inta the Musketeers," Porthos laughed while biting into a hot biscuit.

"Really," Aramis appeared surprised, "I thought she already was."

"Something tells me the regiment would never be the same again if that were to ever happen," Athos shook his head ruefully, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Ah, I can see it now," Aramis grinned. "Constance ordering the Musketeers about because they are not doing things to her liking."

"What of the captain?" Porthos smirked. "He _is_ the man in charge."

"I believe Treville would listen to whatever Constance had to say and if it proved sound he would take her advice," Athos offered.

"Enough talk of Constance," Porthos finished his breakfast. "How is the whelp?"

"With my approval, Doctor Devereaux has discharged the lad from the infirmary," Aramis told him. "He should be back home as we speak."

"Athos, you'll have ta tie the kid down ta keep d'Art from trying ta practice or get inta mischief," Porthos reminded him.

"Between Treville and myself we'll find plenty of things to occupy d'Artagnan's busy hands and mind until he heals," Athos tilted his head to the side. "We have more important matters as yet to deal with."

"Rochefort," Aramis said the comte's name like it had left a bad taste in his mouth.

"I thought the captin' was gonna talk to His Majesty about 'im," Porthos stared hard into Athos' eyes.

"In a little while Treville will," Athos said, "or at least try too." Standing up he gazed down at his brothers. "For now I have men to train and will see you both later."

When Athos left, the other two men exchanged concerned looks.

"I didn't want to say anything around Athos but I worry for d'Artagnan," Aramis pushed his empty bowl aside.

"If Rochefort pulls any funny tricks again," Porthos growled, "I'll personally tear 'im apart."

"And end up in the Bastille," Aramis snorted. "The comte's not worth it." Now it was Aramis' turn to get up from the table. "I know we've talked about this before but we'll just have to be on guard. Whenever we spy Rochefort in the area all of us will make sure that wherever _he_ is d'Artagnan isn't."

"Good luck with that," Porthos grunted. "Kid won't thank us for babying 'im any."

Throwing up his hands, Aramis rounded on his huge friend. "What else can we do?"

"Dunno, I'll 'ave ta come up with somethin'." Then Porthos scraped back his chair, stood up and followed Aramis out of the canteen.

++++

_Royal Palace - throne room_

"Sire," Treville had waited until after King Louis had partaken of his breakfast before approaching him on another grave matter.

"Don't tell me something else has happened already after getting rid of Cardinal Richelieu?" King Louis moaned in exasperation. He had just finished eating and wanted it to at least settle in his stomach before it was disturbed.

"Tis concerning Comte Rochefort," Treville waited until he gained His Majesty's full attention.

"What of him?" He was in the process of planning a reception for Cardinal Mazarin with his queen and King Louis' thoughts were on that at present and nothing else. Even though it would be awhile before the new cardinal's appearance, King Louis always felt better when these things were planned way in advance. It made good sense to him in that if anything were to change it would give them time to make other arrangements.

"He worked under Cardinal Richelieu and cannot be trusted," Treville observed the king's eyes narrow at his words. "Already d'Artagnan's life had been in great peril from demonic creatures whenever Rochefort had been in the vicinity."

"Why was I never informed of these events beforehand, Captain?" Feeling outraged on behalf of his young champion, King Louis was nearly beside himself with anger at Treville.

"Because, Your Majesty," Treville held back a retort, "we never had sufficient proof. The comte always managed to disappear at the last minute. I have it on good authority that Rochefort had been seen each time the events took place."

Calming himself down King Louis nodded his head, coming to a decision. "I will be careful in my dealings with him. Perhaps tis better that I remove Rochefort from Paris before Mazarin's arrival," he tapped his chin. "Matter of fact I'll make sure he's on the first ship out of France."

"I would think that best, Your Majesty," Treville smiled to himself, thinking this was a better outcome than he could have hoped for.

"Oui," King Louis smiled back at his old fox, "then that is what I intend to do. Later today I will summon him before me."

"As always, Sire," Treville bowed, "your wisdom astounds me."

"Quite so," King Louis chuckled and leaned in closer to his captain. "But if you want to know the truth," he whispered low, "I sometimes astound myself."

What neither man noticed was movement behind a huge banner that hung from the ceiling to touch the ground. Peeking out from underneath the bottom of it were a pair of men's black boots attached to a tall frame belonging to Comte Rochefort. He had asked for an audience with the king early this morning and had been denied because His Majesty was having his breakfast. As he was leaving the palace, Rochefort barely acknowledged Treville as the officer walked past him to go inside.

Realizing something was up, Rochefort followed a few minutes behind the captain. He knew where some of the secret entrances inside the Louvre were and managed to use one where he was able to gain entry into the royal throne room. Hiding behind the banner, no one would be the wiser to his presence. Unhappy wouldn't begin to cover his feelings as Rochefort listened into the conversation between King Louis and Treville. So he wasn't to be trusted and they worried for poor, petit d'Artagnan. Knowing that in those two things Treville was more than correct, Rochefort began to devise new plans.

++++

_The Bonacieuxs_

After a hearty breakfast, courtesy of Constance, d'Artagnan placed a light kiss upon her cheek. "You're going to make me so fat I won't be able to get into my leathers anymore."

Laughing, Jacques eyed the beanpole that was d'Artagnan up and down. "Never going to happen, mon ami."

"Jacques is right," Constance patted the boy on his arm. "You'll burn off those calories in no time the way you practice your sword work with Athos."

"True," d'Artagnan readily agreed. "But right now I'm not allowed to do anything like that until my wound heals," he sniffed the air and his mouth began to water again. Reaching his hand out, d'Artagnan plucked another warm croissant out of the basket on their table. "So if I keep eating this way I will end up bigger than Porthos."

Slapping the youngster lightly on the back, Jacque shook his head with amusement. "Would take a powerful lot of eating for that to happen, son."

"What's on the agenda for today since you have to be _careful_?" Constance went to the oven to remove more pastries she was baking. So when her back was turned on d'Artagnan she missed the lad's frown.

"Honestly," d'Artagnan shrugged, "I won't know until I get to the courtyard and see what Athos has for me."

Taking the tray out of the oven, Constance put it on a cooling rack. From the corner of her eye she caught Jacque's worried face. "Just don't do anything _stupid_ and you'll do fine."

Rolling his eyes, d'Artagnan shot her and Jacques and irritated look. "I get enough of that treatment from the inseparables."

"Only after you've gone and done something _stupid_ ," Constance sing-songed.

"I can't win," d'Artagnan grumbled, grabbing one more croissant before leaving.

"That went well I think, ma chere," Jacques watched his wife's face scrunch up as Constance glared at him. "At least d'Artagnan didn't throw that croissant at you."

"Ohhhhh," Constance stamped her foot, throwing a tea towel at her husband's face.

++++

_Musketeer courtyard_

Hiding in one of the empty stables, Rochefort impatiently waited for his victim to arrive. When he finally spotted the Gascon entering past the garrison gates, Rochefort's smile grew wicked. If his future had already been determined by King Louis he may as well go out with a bang.

When d'Artagnan sauntered into the courtyard his eyes cast for his three brothers but didn't see any of them around. As he made his way over to where a few other Musketeers were target practicing, a guttural sound reached his ears. Slowly turning around d'Artagnan blanched as he caught sight of a Gorgon approaching him.

With Athos nowhere to be seen, d'Artagnan couldn't count on his mentor's aegis to help deflect the Gorgon's sight. He would just have to do his best to avoid looking directly into her eyes. But d'Artagnan nearly felt powerless against the creature's winged form and hair filled with serpents like Medusa. Her claws were incredibly sharp looking and the Gorgon's long teeth appeared ready to make a snack out of him.

Summoning his golden scythe, d'Artagnan wasn't sure if it would be able to penetrate her scaly skin. He would have to remind himself to steer clear of the Gorgon's boar-like tusks as they could do him a fatal injury as well. And speaking of injuries, d'Artagnan touched his side. This wasn't going to help his wound any and he could hear Aramis clucking in his ear now. But what was he to do? There wasn't anywhere he could run off where it wouldn't catch him. Better to confront the creature right here and pray no one else gets hurt.

++++

_Mount Olympus_

"Oh blast Perses to Hades!" Demeter shouted. "That stubborn Titan isn't going to listen to us and d'Artagnan's in dire need of assistance!"

"Yes, I can see that he is," Artemis agreed, watching the Gorgon fighting the Gascon. "But only one of us can go down there to help. As it is I'll have to do a lot of posturing before Zeus over this."

"If Perses would have at least listened to you," Demeter said furiously, "this would have never happened."

"I haven't had time to talk to him yet about Comte Rochefort," Artemis reluctantly admitted. "I didn't think the comte would strike so soon after Richelieu's troublemaking efforts."

"Oh," Demeter was suddenly deflated thinking Perses had not bothered to give Artemis the time of day.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't count on Rochefort acting this fast to do away with d'Artagnan," Artemis' brows furrowed together. "Something must have happened that made him decide to move in for the kill."

"It could be because Rochefort's just plain evil," Demeter armed herself with her golden blade.

"Do what you must, sister," Artemis nodded. If d'Artagnan survived she wouldn't waste anymore time about gaining Perses' attention.

++++

_Courtyard_

Other Musketeers ran away from the sight of the hideous creature. They knew they were no match for the beast. But a few at least had the sense to try and find the inseparables.

Swinging his scythe at the scales it hardly made a dent in the Gorgon's skin. Desperately d'Artagnan turned his head away from its eyes. He knew if he wasn't careful d'Artagnan could end up a statue in the middle of the courtyard. At one point he wasn't fast enough in getting out of its way and one of the Gorgon's wings batted him so hard that he flew clear across the courtyard, making d'Artagnan's world spin.

Sluggishly getting back to his feet, d'Artagnan found it hard to raise his arm. When he peered down at it, he noted blood seeping down his doublet. Great just great! His injury was bleeding anew and Aramis was going to have a fit. Not to mention Athos, Porthos and the rest of them.

Trying to bring the Gorgon down by himself was proving an impossibility for d'Artagnan. He was tired, hurting and actually beginning to fear for his life at this point. That was when he saw a figure come out of a mist that had formed near the captain's quarters. Recognizing the face, d'Artagnan was in awe that Demeter herself would come to lend him aide.

"Move aside, d'Artagnan," Demeter ordered as she faced off with the Gorgon.

Unfortunately d'Artagnan's earlier wound slowed him down. Distracted by Demeter's appearance he let the Gorgon get too close. With a furious swipe of its claw it caught d'Artagnan in the stomach, ripping all the way up to his throat. Too shocked to even cry out d'Artagnan fell bonelessly to the ground, his eyes wide open staring blankly at the sky.

"NOOOOOOO!" cried out Demeter as she watched the boy's lifeless body fall, copious amounts of blood dripping everywhere from his torn flesh.

Running as swiftly as his feet could carry him, Athos heard the shrill sounds of a woman's screams just as he entered the courtyard taking in the scene before him. Skidding to a halt, his eyes landed on the prone form of d'Artagnan. Nearly throwing up at the grotesque sight of his petit frere's body, Athos almost fell to his knees in despair.

Feeling the steadying presence of Porthos and Aramis holding him up, Athos knew it was too late for d'Artagnan but that didn't mean they couldn't seek retribution for his death. Summoning his aegis, Athos was about to strike out at the beast but his brother's hands held him back. " _LET ME GO!_ " he roared in pain.

"Athos, look," Aramis said gently, pointing toward where Demeter stood fighting the Gorgon.

"Don't need ta avenge the whelp," Porthos growled softly. "She's doin' the job for us."

Her own golden blade contained more power than d'Artagnan's. When she brought the creature down it was with a powerful strike of her scythe which penetrated the scales covering the Gorgon. As it laid dead at her feet, Demeter watched as the inseparables gathered around d'Artagnan. She did something unusual then. Summoning an empty basin into her hands, Demeter filled it with the blood coming from the right side of the deceased beast.

Moving toward the small group, she knelt down beside the boy's head. "Athos, step aside."

Tears falling from his eyes, Athos blindly followed her order. "He's gone. What good can you do him now?"

"Watch and learn," Demeter murmured. Tipping the basin over, she poured the Gorgon's blood over d'Artagnan's horrific wounds.

The inseparables were stunned at what transpired next. The area that was injured began to shimmer, the blood covering d'Artagnan magically disappeared as his ruined flesh healed itself.

Kneeling, gathering the limp form close to his chest, Athos' blue eyes were drenched with moisture he held back from letting loose. When d'Artagnan began to breath, so relieved was he, Athos let those tears pour from him until his entire face was wet. Pressing soft kisses to the top of the Gascon's head, he was startled when d'Artagnan spoke up.

"Why am I lying down?" d'Artagnan stared into the tormented face of his best friend. "And why are you crying?" he reached up a finger to trace the tears running down Athos' face. "Did someone die?"

++++

_Note:_

A _Gorgon_ is a female creature with serpents for hair, eyes that could turn you to stone, brazen claws, long teeth, scaly skins, tusks of boars and sometimes they are depicted with wings. Medusa was one but I never read about her having wings.

In some Greek myths, blood taken from the right side of a Gorgon could bring the dead back to life, yet blood taken from the left side was an instantly fatal poison.


	18. Chapter 17 - Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is the end, mon amis. I hope you've all enjoyed this little trip into Greek mythology with me.  
> All the thanks goes to SwordsAndSecrets for encouraging me to do this.
> 
> ++++

_Same place as last time_

Still touching his finger to Athos' face, d'Artagnan watched in fascination as his mentor's tears fell onto his finger. "Athos," d'Artagnan's lips began to tremble, "did someone die?"

Lifting his head up to gaze into the solemn faces of Aramis and Porthos for support, Athos' blinked his eyes several times in an effort to keep the rest of his tears at bay. But d'Artagnan kept tugging at his doublet, bringing Athos' face back down toward the lad until d'Artagnan's forehead touched that of his own.

"Athos," d'Artagnan's voice softened. He could read the torment in his beloved friend's face and wondered what was behind it. Bumping his forehead gently against the older man's, d'Artagnan tried again to get Athos to speak while memories began returning to him. "It was me... wasn't it?"

Running a shaky hand through the youngster's totally disheveled long hair, Athos collected his wits as a shudder ran the entire length of his body.

"D'Artagnan is fine now," Demeter stood slightly apart from the small group. She bowed her head in their direction, acknowledging the relieved faces that the inseparables turned toward her.

"We owe you d'Artagnan's life," Aramis swallowed hard, seeing the young Gascon laying dead at their feet nearly killed him.

"I ain't exactly one for many words," Porthos glanced at the goddess with gratitude shining in his ebony eyes, "but it meant alot you givin' the whelp back to us the way ya did."

Not trusting his voice yet, Athos helped d'Artagnan gain his legs. He held onto the child with shaky hands, still not getting over the fact that less than a few minutes ago the lad was gutted like a fish and laying dead upon the cold ground.

Leaning into Athos' solid shoulder, d'Artagnan shot the goddess a look full of warmth. "Merci, Demeter," he ducked his head shyly in her presence. "I can't believe you came down from Olympus to help me. I thought it was forbidden for your kind to interfere."

A small smile graced her features. "I will most likely received some type of reprimand from Zeus over this transgression," Demeter lightly touched the youth's face. "I could not see such an injustice done to you."

"Do ya remember everythin' that went down here, whelp?"

Looking upon the dead Gorgon, d'Artagnan grimaced and rubbed his arms feeling chilled at the thought that he had actually perished. Glancing over at Athos, d'Artagnan linked his mentor's hand with his own holding on tightly. He needed that connection to know that he was truly alive and not at heaven's door.

Startling them all, Treville's booming voice could be heard from his balcony. "What in the blue blazes is going on around here!" Taking the steps two at a time, Treville made a beeline for his men.

Running to meet the captain halfway, Aramis filled Treville in on what just happened. Then he led his commanding officer over to where the Gorgon laid.

Pushing his hat back from his head, Treville pulled a face. "Never seen one before," he muttered, hoping to never see one again either. "Merde! The stories I've heard pale in comparison when faced with the reality of the creature's true form."

Seeing other Musketeers now filing back inside the area, Rene headed straight toward d'Artagnan. "I've been asking questions and Rochefort," he snarled, for he had never liked the comte one iota, "was seen skulking about the garrison stables right before all this happened."

"If the comte insists on giving us enough rope to hang himself," Athos looked at all his brothers, "who are we not to oblige?"

"Rochefort must have overheard the king and I talking earlier," Treville felt guilty for what had befallen d'Artagnan in the wake of his conversation with His Majesty.

"What could have been discussed that would lead to this?" Athos still clung firmly to the pup's hand, afraid to let the Gascon go.

"King Louis is going to banish the comte from France." Treville noted everyone's shocked expressions, that is all but Demeter's whose eyes flashed with pure delight. Then leaning over she kissed d'Artagnan on the forehead and vanished.

Whistling through his teeth, Aramis tilted his head to the side contemplating d'Artagnan. "No wonder Rochefort pulled out all the stops today," he shook his head. "He was probably furious at knowing he would be kicked out of France."

Cracking his knuckles, Porthos growled. "Point me in his direction so I can plant my fists in that smug bastard's face. I know it would make me feel alot better." When Aramis placed his arm across Porthos' broad shoulders, he looked at the marksman strangely.

"Mon frere," Aramis could afford a smile now that d'Artagnan was back among the living once more, "I believe Athos has first dibs," he nodded in the lieutenant's direction.

"Athos can have Rochefort afta I'm done sweepin' the floor with that gutter snipe." Porthos wanted the comte to feel pain. The same type of pain the whelp felt when that damn Gorgon ripped into the kid.

"Don't," d'Artagnan stared into Porthos' dark orbs and knew his brother wanted so badly to retaliate for the harm that had come to himself, "tis best left alone."

"Not from where I'm standing," Athos remarked stiffly. "If not for Demeter you would be forever lost to us," his blue eyes shifted away from the pup's. "I cannot in good conscience leave that alone. Nor do I want too," he freely admitted.

"As I see it our first order of business, gents," though Treville silently agreed with his lieutenant, "is to get rid of this beast," he wrinkled his nose. "Dieu! It smells worse than all the rotting corpses in the morgue put together." When he heard muffled laughter coming from his men, Treville was glad he was able to lighten the mood.

++++

_Mount Olympus_

"Why should I put myself out?" Perses tightened his lips while staring down Artemis.

"The comte is clearly out of control," Artemis snapped, "that's if the man ever was to begin with. He's unhinged and a danger to everyone especially d'Artagnan. Whose life on more than one occasion Rochefort has tried to end." She was furious at Perses' calm acceptance of this whole mess. "This time the comte summoned up a Gorgon and sent it after the boy."

"So?" Perses wasn't very interested in the mortal realm not like some others he could name.

"The Gorgon killed d'Artagnan!" she screeched, smirking when Perses stuck a finger into his ear. "If not for Demeter he would have remained dead." She had seen all that had happened and was sickened at what Rochefort had done.

"Zeus won't like it when he hears of this," Perses folded his arms, waiting for her comeback.

"Not necessarily," Artemis and Demeter had their own ways of dealing with Zeus to make sure his temper sizzled out quickly. "Now will you do your part or not?" She knew King Louis intended to banish Rochefort from France but Artemis would feel much better knowing the comte was out of the picture completely.

"Mortals are nothing but a lot of bother," Perses snorted in displeasure.

"Then go squash the biggest one of all for us," Artemis grinned when Perses' scowl deepened. "Must I remind you that Comte Rochefort's your responsibility in the first place?"

He felt like strangling Atemis for saying that. "Just because he's descended from my line doesn't mean I'm supposed to keep him in check."

Staring him down, looking like she was prepared to stay here all day, Artemis arched an eyebrow. "It doesn't?"

Muttering about putting her nose in other people's business, Perses disappeared.

++++

_Comte Rochefort's apartments_

Walking into his home, Rochefort was stunned to find a total stranger had made himself comfortable in one of his chairs, along with drinking some of his best wine.

Holding up his glass, Perses was not impressed with either Rochefort or the wine's vintage. "I've had better served to me at one of Dionysus' wild parties."

"Who the deuce are you?" demanded Rochefort, not grasping the meaning behind the other man's remark. Automatically his hand reached for his rapier ready to engage his intruder.  

Slowly placing his wine glass down on the table, Perses stood up to tower over the outraged comte. Sizing the man up, Perses found Rochefort wanting in all respects. "I could be many things to one such as you," he said cryptically. He could see into the comte's black soul and nothing of what he saw was good. Now Perses understood why Demeter and Artemis wanted him to do away with Rochefort. If things were left as they were the comte would turn out to be a bigger threat than Cardinal Richelieu ever was.

Pulling out his sword, Rochefort pointed it menacingly at the stranger. "Answer my question or I will run you through."

"You think to scare me with that threat, pitiful mortal," Perses chuckled seeing Rochefort's eyes widened at his remark. "Now do you begin to see _little man_?"

"Why... why?" Rochefort stuttered, "are you here?" Realizing that this man was Perses, Rochefort began to feel quite agitated.

"Well it should be obvious that you've been stirring too many pots down here and a few people I know have taken grave exception to it," Perses was trying to decide what his next move should be.

"Anything I've done..." Rochefort trailed off when Perses' waved a hand in dismissal at him.

"Oh don't give me that same old song and dance about doing something for the betterment of France," Perses huffed. "Because that would be a lie in your case."

Realizing that he may be in deeper trouble with the god than Rochefort thought, he started to back away towards the door hoping for a quick escape. Still facing Perses, he reached behind him to grasp the doorknob. Jerking it open Rochefort was about to slip out when the door, all by itself, slammed shut before he could leave.

"Really?" Perses appeared bored but secretly amused at this puny human's attempts to outwit a god. "You've been a very bad boy," he sneered. "I have a way of making _bad boys_ like you disappear."

++++

_Captain Treville's office_

"What? No luck yet, Aramis?" Treville had sent Aramis and Porthos out to find Comte Rochefort and bring him to his office so that Treville could take him to King Louis.

"We've checked everywhere we could think," Aramis felt discouraged. Wanting to be finally rid of that vermin as humanly possible. "Porthos went to all of Rochefort's usual haunts and I checked his apartments."

"Is d'Artagnan safe at least?" Rochefort better pray Treville doesn't catch him anywhere near their youngest again or he'd forget all about what the king said and end the comte's life himself.

"The pup's at Athos'," Aramis grinned. "Probably biting at the chomp to join us."

"Not until the comte's been rounded up," Treville was about to go join in the search when Porthos entered his office. "Have you good news to report?"

"Depends on how ya look at it," Porthos wiggled his eyebrows when he glanced Aramis' way.

"How am I to interpret that?" Aramis' snuff of laughter even made his captain chuckle.

"Come on outside and you'll see for yourselves," Porthos walked back out the door first.

++++

_Courtyard_

"Who in heaven's name is that?" Treville stood looking down into the courtyard below from his balcony, along with his two soldiers.

"Ain't 'eaven where he came from," Porthos grunted, casting a knowing look into Treville's eyes.

At first he didn't catch the meaning behind that, then Treville quietly said, "Oh".

Staring up at the captain of the Musketeers, Perses held Rochefort by the scruff of his neck shaking him periodically. "Please let d'Artagnan know that I'm taking the comte back to Olympus with me." Seeing Treville about to open his mouth Perses quickly added, "I know all about your monarch's plans but I feel mine are better," he grinned.

"Think ya can reform the scum?" Porthos shouted down to the god.

Shrugging, Perses didn't appear all that confident. "If not we have ways and means at our disposal that you mortals do not have to rid ourselves of imperfections."

Laughing, holding his sides, Aramis fell into Porthos. "I've got to remember to tell Athos and d'Artagnan that Rochefort's considered nothing but an _imperfection_ to the gods."

"I say goodbye to bad rubbish!" Porthos hollered out noting the comte's scowl, he knew the bastard didn't like it any.

"What do I tell His Majesty?" Treville wasn't quite sure how King Louis would accept this, even though there wasn't anything His Majesty could do about it in the first place.

"That I've saved the royal treasury the ship's passage fee for removing Rochefort from France forever." Perses waved at the men, shaking Rochefort one more time in the process and promptly disappearing with the comte.

"I'll be damned!" Porthos laughed, nudging Aramis in the ribs. "D'Art's gonna love this." Seeing a broad grin covering his brother's face, Porthos grabbed Aramis' arm. "Uh uh," he shook his head. "We do this together. Ya ain't beatin' me ta Athos' place."

Sticking out his tongue, Aramis pulled his arm from Porthos' grip. "Spoil sport."

++++

_Athos' apartments_

"Mon Dieu!" d'Artagnan couldn't believe what his friends were telling him. "Rochefort's gone? But which god took him?"

Glancing at each other, Aramis and Porthos both turned to look at the boy a bit perplexed.

"You know none of us thought to ask," Aramis admitted, seeing Athos hanging his head down.

"Tis a safe bet that since the comte is descended from Perses that it was the god himself who came down to take care of business as it were," Athos reached for his glass of wine.

"Wish I had been there," d'Artagnan murmured wistfully.

"I believe you've had enough excitement for one day, pup," Athos gently cuffed the boy behind the back of d'Artagnan's head, earning a surprised yelp from the lad.

"Yeah," Porthos agreed, walking over to the whelp. "I think ya deserve a nice rest," he began guiding d'Artagnan toward the extra bedroom when the boy dug in his heels and stopped.

"Not sleepy," d'Artagnan complained.

"You've died and have been resurrected," Athos pointed out, "surely that's enough to tire out anyone."

"Apparently not me," d'Artagnan rolled his eyes.

"Think of it in this way," Aramis smiled at the stubborn jut of the lad's chin, "your dreams may be filled with all those lovely maidens up in Mount Olympus that have smiled down upon you."

Frowning, d'Artagnan folded his arms and stood his ground. "That's the best you've got?"

Chuckling, Porthos slapped the whelp on the back. "Sometimes Mis' brain is slow ta catch up ta his mouth."

"You're a fat lot of help," Aramis fired back at his friend.

"Tellin' the kid he's gonna have an armful of goddesses ain't the way either, Mis."

Throwing up his hands, d'Artagnan began to head towards the bedroom. "I'll go if only you guys promise to take me to that new show tomorrow night that I've been hearing so much about from some of our other brothers."

Three sets of eyebrows shot up high as they gazed at their youngest brother, worry evident in their faces.

Clearing his throat, Athos said, "Tis a bit more risque than you're used too, d'Artagnan."

"Athos is right, pup," Aramis agreed. "I doubt the captain would like it if he were to hear you went to see it."

"Just alotta silly dancin' and prancin' about the stage," Porthos grunted, hoping to change his petit frere's mind.

Expecting something like this, d'Artagnan smirked. "I will remind you of what Athos just said," he leaned against the doorframe. "I _died and was resurrected_ , gentlemen," he snorted. "That should allow me some perks." Saying that, he went inside the room and closed the door leaving three pairs of gaping mouths open.

"As arguments go," Aramis glanced at Athos' disgruntled face, "the boy's got a good point."

Filling his glass again, Athos stared down into the swirling liquid and then at his brothers. "We keep this from Treville, agreed?"

" _All for one_...," Porthos grinned.

" _And one for all_ ," Aramis flashed his teeth and joined his brothers in a refreshing glass of Anjou.

The End


End file.
